In Another World
by actualbabe
Summary: In another world, Nick Miller doesn't quit law school. Instead he marries his long-term girlfriend Caroline after she unexpectedly gets pregnant. 11 years later his perfect life falls apart, and he only has one last chance to save his family. But then his annoying new roommate Jess throws a wrench into everything by getting under his skin and making him fall in love with her.
1. Prologue

_In another world, Nick doesn't quit law school. Instead he marries his long-term girlfriend Caroline after she unexpectedly gets pregnant during his third year of law school. Flash forward about 11 years later and workaholic lawyer Nick Miller finds that his marriage is falling apart and he's forced to crash with his ex-college roommate Schmidt. He doesn't have a life plan anymore, just one last chance to save his family. But then one annoying girl roommate throws a wrench into everything by getting under his skin and making him fall in love with her._

 _A Nick/Jess slow-burn au_

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* * *

Nick comes home from Clyde's buzzing with excitement. His heart is racing; everything suddenly makes sense. The dark cloud that's been looming over his head has disappeared and it's like he's seeing the world clearly for the first time in years. He opens the door to their tiny apartment and announces breathlessly, "Caroline, I think I might quit law school."

"You what?" his girlfriend asks in disbelief.

He laughs, still high on adrenaline. "It's crazy. But I realized that I would hate being a lawyer. I don't know why it took me until my 3L, but I don't wanna do this anymore."

Caroline doesn't say anything. She just stares at him in shock.

"I think I might become a bartender," he says, still breathing hard and blissfully optimistic about his future for the first time in years.

After a moment, Caroline says softly, "I'm pregnant."

She stares at him expectantly, and Nick just gapes blankly at her. His world suddenly flips upside down, swinging him back into reality and dashing the wild impulse that took hold of him when he covered Red's shift at the bar. He has no idea what he's supposed to do, so he follows the pull of his gut and blurts out, "Marry me." Once the words fall out of his mouth, everything else suddenly seems unimportant.

Caroline lets out a short, surprised laugh. "Nick, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cuts her off and gets down on one knee. He's supposed to have a ring for this, but he can get that later. It's the intent of the gesture that counts. "Caroline, I know this isn't how either of us pictured this going, but I love you. We've been together for almost six years and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Nick sees her hesitate for a split second and it sends a spike of panic running down his spine. He takes her hands in his. "I'll finish law school. I'll become a lawyer. We'll have the baby and build a beautiful family together. We're going to have a good life. I'm going to take care of us. I will, Caroline. I promise."

Caroline wasn't even sure she wanted kids, but looking down at Nick's hopeful face, she wanted to have the future he saw with her. He loves her and she loves him and maybe that's all they really need. So she smiles at him and says, "Okay." Nick stands up and twirls her around before kissing her and it's almost perfect.

They get a ring that weekend, but it doesn't feel real to him until their first appointment with the OB/GYN. Nick listens to the sound of his baby's heartbeat for the first time and it hits him all at once. _He's going to be a dad._ He knows he loves Caroline, but the feeling of love that he has for his kid is entirely different. He feels it so much it hurts. He loves this tiny almost-person so much more than he could ever love himself. That's the moment when he forgets his half-formed dream of opening up his own bar and commits himself to being the kind of father he always wished he had growing up. His kid is never going to know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night scared that their dad won't be there in the morning. He's going to be there for everything.

So Nick buckles down and finishes law school. He passes the bar exam with flying colors on his first try. He lands a job at a prestigious corporate firm in downtown LA because that's where he can make all the money he needs to give his family everything they could ever want. He and Caroline have a small wedding in a tiny church, and his ma cries through the entire ceremony. Seven months later their daughter Abigail Hope Miller is born, beautiful just like her mother with the same brown eyes as her father. It's not exactly how Nick expected his life to go, but he has a family and that means everything to him.

Things aren't always easy. There's plenty of days when he wonders if he made the right choice, if he should've done things differently. But he knows it's all worth it when he comes home from work to see his family. He'll hear his daughter Abbi excitedly yell "Daddy!" and and she'll come running to him, her face lit up by her bright grin. He'll feel his lips stretch into the first genuine smile he's had all day as he drops his briefcase and crouches down to scoop her up into a hug. He'll pick her up and she'll cling tight to his neck and tell him all about her day. He'll laugh at her childlike delight at going grocery shopping with Mommy or how she got to pet a doggy at the park. He'll carry her into the kitchen where his wife Caroline will look up from where she's stirring something in a saucepan for dinner. She'll smile at him, her eyes filled with love for him, as he presses a quick kiss to her cheek.

They buy a house in one of the best neighborhoods in LA after Nick makes partner at the firm. He starts picking up more and more hours and bringing work home more often. He wishes he could spend more time with his family instead of being stuck at the office, but so does everyone else in the world. It's just being an adult. It's not perfect, but it's a good life. He has a family that he loves with his entire heart and they love him back in the same way. There's not much more that a guy like him can ask for. So every day he wakes up and tries his damndest to be the kind of father and husband they deserve.

.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Well hello there!

This fic was inspired (among other things) by:

-How much I hate when Nick is portrayed as dumb/incompetent

-The episode Chicago

-Every time Jake Johnson wears a suit and/or tie

But mostly this fic was started by that scene at the end of Fired Up where Nick calls him and Jess a "power couple," and there was something really appealing to me about Nick the competent lawyer. And then Chicago got me feelin' some kind of way and I just wanted to see more of this capable and responsible side of Nick.

So I started thinking: okay, what would have to happen to make Nick Miller finish law school and become a successful lawyer?

And so the Lawyer AU was born.

This one goes out to everyone who liked/reblogged/left a comment on the drabble version of this on tumblr. Honestly, people saying nice things about that post is what prompted me to actually follow through with this behemoth of a fic. Seriously, a nice comment/reply/tag is the best part of an author's day. I can't stress enough how much they mean to me.

I owe my eternal love and firstborn child to dreamsofsleepingin for being the most incredible beta that a girl like me could ask for.

Dedicated to Hannah, the light of my life.

Thanks.

(and yes, I promise that nick/jess is endgame in this fic- you're just gonna have to trust me on this slow burn)


	2. Missed it by a long shot

"Wait!"

Jess turns away from where she's locking up the front doors of the school for the night and towards the direction of the voice. After a few seconds of squinting into the poorly-lit parking lot, Jess is able to spot a man jogging towards her, waving at her with a semi-frantic look on his face. He's wearing a black suit, and the unbuttoned jacket billows out behind him as he closes the distance between his car and where she stands at the entrance to the school.

She can feel her heart start to pound as she shoves the stack of papers under her arm, unsuccessfully trying to keep a tight hold of them while swinging her purse around to her front. Her hands won't stop shaking and she accidentally drops her keys on the ground as she blindly fumbles around in her purse, frantically searching for the mace Cece gave her for Christmas last year. _Stay calm, Jess, just stay calm_ , she thinks to herself, but she's already started hyperventilating and she can feel her head start to get dizzy. And then, because apparently the Universe has it out for her, the strap of her bag slips off her shoulder at the same time that her precariously stacked and meticulously organized bundle of papers threatens to pour onto the pavement. It's a split second decision. She curses her teacher's instincts that override her sense of self-preservation and make her save the students' papers instead of her own life. The purse hits the ground with a sad little thump, the miscellaneous contents rolling out onto the darkened pavement.

The man comes to a stop at the bottom of the three concrete stairs that lead up to the main entrance, more than a little out of breath. He places his hands on his knees and takes several slightly wheezing breaths that have Jess more concerned for his health than she should be for a guy who is likely trying to mug her.

"Can I help you?" Jess asks warily, keeping her gaze on him as she crouches down and fumbles on the ground for her keys.

The man climbs up the steps and kneels on the ground to help her collect the upturned contents of her purse. "Sorry, probably not the best idea to come running at you in a dark parking lot."

"Probably not." Jess laughs, short and nervous because she's not really sure how to respond. Her hand finally finds the hard ridges of her keys, and she stands up quickly, shifting her grip to hold them tight between her fingers.

She wants to believe this guy. He sounds deeply apologetic and is kindly helping her to collect her scattered belongings. But even though she believes there's good in everyone, she's lived in LA long enough to realize there's a danger to her overly optimistic expectations. She's not the naive girl from Portland anymore. She lives by Cece's survival rules: _Don't jump to conclusions. Trust people, but only after they've earned it. A guy who runs up to you late at night while you're all alone, even if he happens to be wearing a sharp suit, doesn't pass the test_.

 _Dangerous,_ she reminds herself, _he's dangerous and I don't know what he's going to do. Better to be safe than sorry._ But her innate empathy wins out and she can't help feeling a twinge of pity for him. She would think that if this guy were going to attack her then he would've done so already. Maybe he's just a really bad mugger, or he just got out of training and this is his first time in the field. Should she go easy on him because he's just a newbie, help him build up his confidence a little?

"Sorry," the man apologizes again. He straightens up and hands over her purse, which she tentatively takes and slings the strap over her shoulder. "I guess it's safe to say the open house is over."

 _Oh! He's a parent._ A rush of relief washes over her and she smiles sympathetically at the man, who is staring at the closed doors of the school with a look of regret. "I'm afraid so." She glances down at her watch, and wow, time really got away from her. "We ended around eight, and most of the teachers cleared out a little after that."

"Shit." The man runs a hand through his dark brown hair. Judging by the way it sticks out all over the place, it seems to be a nervous habit of his. He shifts his gaze from the windows of the empty school back towards Jess and she can see the disappointment evident in his features. "I knew I should've left earlier. But they needed me at the office."

Jess nods in understanding. She should've left almost two hours ago, but there were assignments that needed grading, the never-ending mountain of paperwork to fill out, and then Principal Foster had to have a 'quick chat' with her that was anything but 'quick.' The past few months have been grueling but all these extra hours and responsibilities will be worth it once Dr. Foster nominates her for the Vice Principal slot that Becky Cavatappi will soon be leaving. Then it's just a matter of proving herself to the school board and she'll be promoted in no time.

She's dreamed about running her own school for as long as she can remember. She wonders when other people will finally see that she's capable of doing just that. Most days it seems like a fantasy she'll never be able to reach, no matter how hard she works for it. But she's not going to let that stop her from dreaming about wearing blazers and having a name plaque on her desk with _Principal Day_ embossed in shiny gold lettering.

"Oh, sorry." The man seems to suddenly realize something and shakes his head before offering his hand out to her. "Nicholas Miller. My daughter is in Ms. Martin's class."

"Miss Day. I teach fourth grade." She smiles and takes his hand. His tight grip on her fingers is strong and practiced, which makes sense when she considers the business suit he's wearing. He returns her smile with one of his own, charming and a little crooked. "Were you here for parent-teacher conferences?" she asks him.

He seems familiar, but she can't remember ever meeting him before. She recalls that last year one of the girls in her gifted and talented class was a Miller. Abbi Miller, a sweet girl with short blonde hair, brown eyes and a small patch of freckles over the bridge of her nose. She remembers meeting Abbi's mother several times, but never her husband. Abbi had frequently mentioned her dad with glowing affection, but Jess had gotten the impression that he wasn't home often. According to Abbi, he was usually too busy with work to spend a lot of time with her, an unfortunate reality for many of her students. She thinks she can almost see the resemblance between Abbi and the man standing before her, but she isn't entirely certain.

Mr. Miller drops her hand and scratches the back of his neck nervously, "Well, I was trying to be." He sighs and his polite smile is replaced by a worn expression. "I'll have to catch it another time, I guess."

He takes in a breath, deep and slow, his broad shoulders slumping under his suit jacket. His eyes are dark, and his whole face looks sad and tired in the dim lighting of the school parking lot. There are deep bags under his eyes. They make his whole face look like it's drooping, like he's been holding up a huge weight and it's suddenly collapsed in on him. Jess's heart goes out to him. He missed the conferences by a long shot, but he's here, and that's more than she can say for a lot of parents. So even though it's way too late for her to be standing around in a dark parking lot with a complete stranger, she's always more than happy to talk to any parent who bothers to make the effort.

"You're Abigail Miller's father?" Jess asks, and Mr. Miller nods, a small quirk of a smile appears on his downtrodden face. "I had her last year in my advanced English group. She's a lovely student; her work is exceptional."

Mr. Miller lights up at the praise of his daughter, his smile widening with pride. Jess feels a rush of satisfaction at the way his mood brightens slightly. "Yeah, she's really something special."

"I actually have something she's been working on!" Jess says, remembering the bundle that Angela passed off to her earlier that evening. She starts digging through her massive stack of weekend folders and paperwork, searching for a carefully stapled bundle of colorful pages. "Ah ha!" she announces victoriously as she unearths the creation. She passes it over to Mr. Miller, who takes it carefully in his hands.

"The Pepperwood Chronicles?" he reads, half question and half amusement. It's about ten pages long, a short story about Detective Julius Pepperwood who goes undercover to complete a special mission for the chief of police Captain Abigail. Abbi's been working on it for the past few months, testing out different versions of the story during English and perfecting her depictions of the characters in her Art class. This version is her final draft, the construction paper pages folded in half and stapled together down the middle like a real book. Mr. Miller's eyes linger on the self-portrait of Abbi on the back cover. He runs his finger over the careful lines of her handwriting, where she describes herself as "ten and eleven months old" and "very good at jump rope."

"It's amazing," Jess gushes, gesturing to the cover. "The storyline, the writing, everything. It's well above what her peers are doing. We've been passing it around amongst the teachers so we all get a chance to read it. She has a real gift."

Mr. Miller flips the book open to the front page and skims over the first few lines, his smile growing.

"My favorite are the illustrations," she tells him, pointing to the sketch on the inside cover of Pepperwood wearing his signature trench coat. It's especially good, and bears a striking resemblance to Mr. Miller, which Jess thinks is far from coincidental.

He looks up at her, a warm and genuine smile on his face, but there's still a lingering sadness in his eyes. "This is really great. Thank you."

"Of course!" Jess returns his smile, trying to pour all the cheeriness into the expression that she can. "And if you want to talk to one of her teachers for this year, just give the school a call and we can arrange something that'll fit your schedule."

Mr. Miller nods, and passes Abbi's work back to Jess, who carefully tucks it under her arm with the rest of her paperwork. "Well... thanks," he repeats with a shrug. He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. There's an awkward pause, like at the end of most parent-teacher conferences where both parties aren't really sure how to break things off. It's even worse considering they're standing on the front steps of the school at 10 p.m. Mr. Miller clears his throat. "I can walk you to your car, if you'd like."

"Sure! Just let me finish locking up," Jess gestures to the door with the hand holding her keys. Once the entrance has been secured, Mr. Miller waves for Jess to lead the way, and they walk out into the parking lot, falling into a silence that toes the line between comfortable and awkward.

"Well," she says once they reach the edge of the teacher's lot. She needlessly points to her car. "This is me! Have a great night!"

Mr. Miller waves at her from where his own car is parked two spots down the line from hers. He returns her cheery grin with a tired smile. "Take care, Miss Day."


	3. I don't want it like this

Nick pulls into the driveway and shuts the car off. He takes a long breath, holds it for a few seconds, and lets it all out in one big _whoosh_. His forehead drops down to rest on the steering wheel, and he wonders what his chances are that Caroline is already in bed. Abbi's definitely asleep at this point, and with any luck Nick can sneak into the house without waking either of them.

He's never been that lucky.

He enters their house and sees his wife in the kitchen, her back facing him, elbows deep in a soapy pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. She must not hear him come in over the sound of the running water and the resentful clatter of silverware. She's muttering something angry and indistinct under her breath. Nick tries to evade drawing attention to himself and sneak down the hall to his home office, but she must hear the soft jingle of his keys when he drops them into the key bowl by the front door. She sets aside the casserole dish she was scrubbing and dries her hands on a dish towel.

Nick takes a deep breath and walks into the kitchen, bracing himself for the worst. "Hey, honey," he says apologetically, like that'll make up for the fact that he was supposed to be home over six hours ago.

"Don't you _honey_ me," Caroline snaps at him.

"Look, I'm sorry-"

"I can't believe you, Nick!" She spins around to face him, raising her voice as much as she can without it echoing through the house and disturbing Abbi. Their daughter is slumbering peacefully just a short distance away, innocent and blissfully unaware of her parents arguing below her. "I told you about this _a month_ ago. And what did you tell me?"

"Caroline-"

" _Of course I'll be there_!" she says in a slightly gruff tone that's meant to be an impression of him, throwing her hands into the air in annoyance.

Nick cringes, because he _did_ say that. He's been saying it for weeks. "I know, but something came up at work and-"

"There it is." Caroline laughs, forced and anything but genuine, like she's just trying to make her point and rub it in his face. "Work. Something is always coming up at work."

Nick can feel the anger building in his chest. He grits his teeth because he knows yelling at her is just going to make the situation worse. "You know how important this job is for us," he says defensively. Caroline just rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, and it makes him want to scream. He's trying to remain calm and have an adult conversation with his wife, but she's not even trying to listen to him and it's infuriating. He hates when she does this, the way she just dismisses everything he does for them like all his hard work means nothing to her.

"More important than our daughter?" she says accusingly, eyes trained sharply on him.

Nick frowns, his eyebrows furrowing and his hands fisting at his sides. "Of course not."

Abbi means the world to him. She's the reason he gets up in the morning; he knows he'd do absolutely anything for her. But that doesn't mean Caroline can keep bringing her up every time they argue, like she's just some example to prove whatever point she's trying to make. He would love to be there for her the way Caroline wants, the way they both want him to be, but this is the real world, and in the real world you have to make sacrifices. And right now that means he spends a lot of time stuck in the office when he wishes he was home with his daughter.

His insane work hours are what make their good life possible. When he married Caroline, he promised himself that she would never have to do without, that their family would never live with the stress of never quite having enough. They say that money doesn't buy happiness, but he thinks it gets you pretty close. He never wants their family to know the feeling of being down to their last 20 bucks and having to decide between paying rent and keeping the electricity on. It's reassuring to know there's enough in their bank account to pay their bills every month.

Money is what keeps a roof over their heads and puts food on the table. It's what pays for Abbi's violin lessons so she can make it to Carnegie Hall someday, if she wants. It's the college fund that will let her go anywhere she wants to go; it's what holds the door open to any future she can imagine. It's a hundred different things that Caroline never even stops to consider because she's never had to. He's always been the one who worries about their finances and fixes anything that goes wrong. He's her husband, and she never has to worry about them as long as he's around.

He remembers how hard it was on his Ma to live that kind of life, the permanent exhaustion in her tired eyes and worn smile. The long hours she spent working the graveyard shift at the nearby convenience store that left her dead on her feet when she still had to take care of him and his brother. The anxious look on her face when they were rolling quarters the day before rent was due so their check wouldn't bounce. The times when the three of them had to search the gutter for glass bottles to recycle on the last day of the month when they came up short so the city wouldn't shut off their electricity. He loves his Ma, he really does, and it hurt him to see her struggling through those tough years. He swore he would never forget that.

The last thing he wants is to put that kind of burden on his wife. But he can't help feeling frustrated whenever Caroline brushes off the anxiety that's been in the forefront of his mind ever since he was in grade school. All his life he's worried about things like having enough food on the table or a warm place to sleep at night, and he knows how quickly things can crumble based on one careless mistake. He's spent so much time terrified of making that one fatal decision that destroys everything he's worked so hard for, and he doesn't know how to explain this near-constant feeling of paranoia to Caroline because she hasn't lived it. She's never had to live like he did growing up. Part of him is glad that she's been fortunate enough not to, but at the same time he wishes she could see things his way for once just so she could understand where he's coming from.

"Nick," Caroline sighs, deflating. "I know you have to work, and that you do so much to take care of us, and I appreciate it, I swear I do, but-"

And there it is. He's a lawyer. He's paid to analyze what people say and how they try to twist the meaning of their words into their version of the truth. No matter how many times Caroline says she appreciates him, there always seems to be something he's doing wrong, or something he can do better. The nagging feeling in his gut agrees with her, pushes him to be the kind of father he wanted to have as a kid, to be the kind of man that his daughter could look up to. But at the same time he's stuck with the feeling that he's never going to be good enough for Caroline, that no matter what he does she's never going to be happy with him. She's his _wife_. They're supposed to love each other unconditionally, but it's like she's never been able to uphold her end of the bargain. And it hurts, that he has no one, not even himself, to believe in him.

Caroline pauses to take a deep breath, her eyes falling closed as she hugs her arms tight around her middle. "When you first started your job, I knew the hours would be intense, but the money was good enough so that I could stay home with Abbi. It's what we agreed to. It's what we both wanted. But I didn't want it like this. When you first started to bring work home, I could accept it because you were still here for us. But then there were overtime hours and going in on weekends and missing dinner because they wanted you to stay late and missing holidays because you had to go into the office and then before I knew it I was a single mom raising our daughter all by myself because the man who was supposed to be her father couldn't be bothered to show up when he said he would."

"It's not like I want it to be this way, Caroline-"

"I know. But you're her _father_ , Nick. Abbi wanted you to be there tonight. You _promised_ her you would be. She was really disappointed that you couldn't follow through with what you told her."

Nick clenches his jaw to keep himself from saying something stupid or crying or some shitty combination of the two. He and Caroline have had their fair share of fights. Not all of them have been pretty, but she's never, ever called him a bad father before. She knows about his history with Walt. He had felt vulnerable and scared telling her about it, but he loved her and it felt like the right thing to do. He remembers holding her tight afterwards, and how she had pressed her lips to his hair and told him she would never hurt him like that. Look at them now. She's using it against him. It's punching below the belt and she knows it. When is he going to learn that the people who you love are always the ones that end up hurting you? He feels like someone just ripped his chest open and pulled his guts out onto the floor. But all he can do is just stand there and stare down at the ground, counting the tiles as he bleeds out.

 _Disappointment._ The word echoes over and over in his head, the bitter taste of it filling his mouth. That's not who he is. _I'm a good dad_ , Nick wants to protest, because he is. He knows he's not perfect, but he's never stopped trying. To be a good dad. To be a good husband. He's not gone because he's living it up somewhere and forgetting his family. He's gone because he's making sacrifices to give them all a better life. It's completely different and he doesn't know why his own wife can't see that. And he knows he should be doing better but he's trying and that should count for something. He's giving their life everything he has and all she can do is throw all his shortcomings back into his face. He's not good enough. He'll never be good enough.

"Nick." His head snaps up from where he's been staring at his shoes. Caroline stares blankly at him. He watches the way her lower lip wobbles with a nervous feeling in his gut. "I don't think this is working for us."

"What?"

Caroline lets out a short breath, not quite a sob or laugh. "This, Nick." She gestures between them. "Whatever we once had, it's gone. And I think we've both known that for a while. And-" She pauses, grips the sides of her arms a little tighter. "And if you aren't going to be here for Abbi, then I don't think you should be here at all."

Nick stares at her in disbelief. "Are you saying-"

"I- I think we need some space. Just to figure out if this is something you can actually commit to."

A heavy silence falls over the room. Nick can feel his chest getting tighter and tighter. Caroline's words are ringing in his ears and his heart is pounding and there's a deafening screaming in the back of his head that makes it impossible to think.

"Space?" he echoes numbly.

Caroline lets out a shaking breath, a few small tears slipping down her face. "Nick, I just-" She lets out another small sob and it makes his chest tighten even more.

He swallows, his throat thick and tight. This isn't what he wants. He doesn't want to leave. This is his family and he can't just leave without fighting for them. He's spent a lot of his adult life resenting the way his dad would periodically decide to just quit on them, as if having a family was some novelty toy he could pick up and then toss away once he got bored, leaving him and Jamie and his Ma behind trying to pick up the pieces. He wants to stay here with Caroline and let her scream and yell at him until she's run out of things to say. Then he can apologize, and he'll promise to do better, and they'll kiss and make up and things will be okay again, the two of them back on the same side like they're supposed to be.

But now he's standing across from his wife watching her crying _because of him_ , unable to touch her, and he knows this is worse than he thought it was. He feels helpless. He knows this is all his fault but he can't do anything to fix it because he's the cause of everything. It all starts and ends with him but right now he can't see the path to lead them out of this wreckage. Everything he does is just hurting her, hurting their family more. And if he's any sort of husband he has to give his wife what she says she needs.

"Okay," Nick says, so quietly even he can barely hear it.

His wife looks at him with tears in her eyes and whispers, "Okay?"

Nick nods, trying to sound confident, trying to feel determined, like he has the answer to fixing their relationship, like he actually has any fucking idea as to what the fuck he's doing. Caroline doesn't say anything, just watches as he stumbles out of the kitchen and trudges up the stairs. He feels like he's in the middle of a bad dream, not really feeling anything except the way his lungs can't seem to fill all the way and the way his heart won't stop pounding.

He packs on autopilot, like he's going away to some conference or business trip. Suits, button-down shirts, and slacks all go into his bigger suitcase, still neatly pressed and on the hangers, along with the first three ties he sees. His duffel bag gets a handful of socks and boxers and undershirts, all tossed together in a huge mess. He steps into the attached bathroom and grabs his toothbrush and shampoo. He barely remembers to unplug his phone charger out of the socket next to the nightstand.

As he's leaving the bedroom, he falters in the middle of the hallway, coming to a stop at the door to Abbi's room. Taped onto the white surface is a bright pink piece of cardstock with her name carefully printed inside a border of glitter glue and Disney Princess stickers. The second-place ribbon she won at the spelling bee last year. A drawing of their family where Abbi stands between her parents, the three figures holding hands and smiling wide. Nick's heart jumps up into his throat and he drops his duffel bag to the ground before carefully opening the door and peering into the dark room. Abbi is already curled up under the covers and fast asleep, arms clutched tight around Huggie, her stuffed bear.

He can't remember the last time he was the one to tuck her into bed. Most nights, Caroline is the one reading one last book with her before bedtime. Nick spends his evenings working, either staying late at the law firm or tucked away in his home office. He always tries to duck his head in to say goodnight to her before he turns in for the night, but more often than not she's already asleep. When Abbi was younger he was the one in charge of bedtime, but he never has the time to spare anymore, hasn't for a few years. He can't lie and say it doesn't hurt, but he knows the sacrifice will be worth it one day when she has the life she dreams about, the life she deserves.

Nick quietly walks into the room, and crouches down beside the bed so he's at eye level with his sleeping daughter. He gently runs a hand over her forehead, brushing aside a few locks of her blonde hair and tucking them behind her ear. Abbi blearily opens her eyes to look at him, and smiles softly. Still half asleep, she mumbles, "Dad?"

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm sorry I didn't make it to school in time. I wanted to be there."

"It's okay," she says with a yawn. "I had a surprise for you, but I'll just show you tomorrow."

Part of him wants to tell her it's not okay. To explain all the complicated adult reasons why he wants to be there for her but can't. He wants to hold her tight in his arms and say a thousand apologies to her for all the things he's done wrong. He wants to tell her why he has to leave, to tell her he doesn't want to, wants to do all the things he wishes his dad had done for him when he would disappear for months at a time. But he doesn't have the time to figure out the right words to say, or even the slightest clue of how he could even begin to explain himself to her.

Some little voice in a dark corner of his mind wonders if she'd even miss him not being around. He's gone so much nowadays, coming home after she's already in bed and leaving for work before she even gets up in the mornings. There are days where he doesn't even see her for more than ten minutes. He remembers when he was her age and he hadn't realized his father was gone until a week after the fact, and how he had wished Walt would've had the decency to tell him goodbye. He thinks about being a parent, and how he doesn't deserve the kind of pure love and blind trust his daughter has for him. He owes her some sort of explanation, the promise that whatever happens in the future, he's going to be here for her no matter what. It's what every child deserves from their parent, the most sacred of promises. He looks into his daughter's loving eyes and vows to fix this, to fix everything as soon as he can so they can be a family again.

"Dad's gonna be gone for a little while, sweetie," he says, trying to sound optimistic about it, even as it's tearing him up from the inside out.

"For work?"

He feels the knife twist in his heart when he hears her say it, the confirmation that his daughter has accepted his near-constant absence as a fact of life.

"Yeah." It's a cop out, but he doesn't know what else to say. He never wants to lie to his daughter, but he can't burden her with this grown-up truth either. So instead Nick tucks the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders and presses a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too," he says around the thick lump of guilt in his throat. He walks out of her room with his heart sinking even deeper into the pit of his chest.

When he returns to the kitchen, Caroline is still standing frozen in the middle of the room, her back to the hallway as if she hasn't moved this whole time. She spins around to face him, a look of mild surprise on her face, even though she's the one who told him to leave. There are tears streaming down her face, and she starts crying even harder when she sees him holding his suitcases.

Nick clears his throat, a harsh sound in the quiet house. "I-" He takes another deep breath, pushes the twisting pool of guilt and self-loathing down into the pit of his stomach. "Tell Abbi I love her and-"

He's not sure what to say next. What he wants to say next. What he's supposed to say next.

Caroline is still staring blankly at his bags, like she can't believe this is actually happening. Her eyes are fixed on the peeling vinyl of his carry-on to avoid meeting his gaze. Her arms are still wrapped tightly around herself, knuckles white as they grip her sides. Tears continue to run down her face, dripping down her cheeks and onto the fabric of her shirt as she squeezes her eyes shut. She opens them after a few seconds and stares up at the empty space above Nick's head, biting down hard on her lip like she's holding herself back from saying something.

Nick nods, readjusts his grip on the strap of his duffel bag, and lets himself out.

It's not until he's in the car that it hits him.

He pulls up to a stop sign at the exit to their neighborhood and realizes he has no idea where to go. He can barely feel his hands where they grip the steering wheel. His entire body feels numb and empty. Nick takes a long, deep breath, puts on his blinker, and decides to drive until the screaming in the back of his head fades to something he can think around.

There's still some part of him that can't believe this is actually happening. This all still feels like it's some crazy fever dream and any second he's going to wake up in his bed next to Caroline who will ask him what's wrong in the soft voice she uses when she's still half asleep. He'll tell her everything's fine, because it will be, and that he loves her, because he doesn't say it enough and she'll say it back to him because it will still be true. Then in the morning he'll drink his coffee and kiss his wife and daughter goodbye before going into the office and things will be exactly how they are supposed to be.

The car pulls to a stop and he realizes that he's been driving on autopilot, too stuck in his own thoughts to actually think about what he's doing. He stares blankly out the windshield of his car at the darkened windows of his law firm. Nearly all the lights are off in the law office, but there's one other car in the parking lot, likely one of the new associates fresh out of law school trying to impress the partners by burning the midnight oil and unknowingly going down the same path that led Nick to the mess he's in today. Whoever it is probably believes what they're doing will lead them to a good life. They believe it's worth it and Nick wants to believe it too. Everything he's given up, everything he's lost. It has to be worth it. The cost is too high for it not to be.

Part of him wants to go inside, to act like everything's fine and his life isn't falling to shambles. Instead he just sits in his car and stares out at the abandoned parking lot. His face feels wet, and he realizes he's crying.


	4. Speak of the Devil

He drives aimlessly around town until he ends up at some random bar in a part of the city he's never been before. The bar is like the ones he used to spend every weekend in when he was in his early twenties. He has hazy but pleasant memories of the epic bar crawls he and his college roommate Schmidt used to choreograph, hopping from bar to bar until they were too plastered to go on. Caroline always hated being dragged to these kinds of places, complained about the sticky resin of the countertops and the eccentric barflies that practically lived there. The fancy, pretentious wine tastings he brought her to now were more her speed; she loved visiting upscale vineyards with his colleagues and mingling with the other society wives. And yeah, he's mostly glad to have grown up and left behind his days of irresponsible binge drinking and killer hangovers, but he can't help but admit there's some sort of comfort to being back in a place like this. It's like stepping back in time and away from the messy present.

The bar is old and worn down, but the drinks are cheap and they aren't blasting club music like the first two places he tried. He's too old for fad bars. The flashing lights give him a headache and standing around for too long is hard on his knees. Damn, he's not even close to forty and he already sounds like he's the old grump in a retirement home complaining about his creaky joints and how young people are ruining everything. It's a Friday night, and even though this place is a dive, at least it isn't crawling with young people trying to grind up on each other.

He's one of the few people left at the bar: there's a couple hunkered at the corner booth who won't stop making eyes at each other, the dwindling remains of an out-of-office mixer, and a few tired-looking old guys like him trying to drink themselves out of the shithole of a life they've dug themselves into. The bartender is a big guy with a gruff voice whose only words to Nick are to ask what he's drinking. Big Bob doesn't comment on the three shots of whiskey Nick knocks back in quick succession, just nods at him when he sets down each new glass.

Nick sits way down at the end of the bar, tucked away in a dark corner so no one will bother him as he attempts to drown out the thoughts of how he's not good enough and never will be. He keeps turning Caroline's words over and over in his head, obsessively replaying the details of their fight and trying to figure out what he could've said to make Caroline change her mind, to stop her from saying the words that would break apart their family like this. He picks at the corner of his napkin, rolling the damp paper between his thumb and forefinger. It feels like just yesterday he was holding his baby girl in his arms, smiling down at her as she grasped his finger in her tiny palm. He reaches into his wallet and pulls out the worn photo from that day, the one where he's holding his daughter for the very first time, looking down at the little pink bundle with a ridiculous grin as the hours-old Abbi yawns at the camera. Nick remembers sitting in the hospital room with his daughter in his arms as Caroline took a well-deserved nap, and how he'd promised her he'd take care of her. That he'd take care of both of them.

Look how that worked out.

He quickly moves from tipsy to full-on drunk. This isn't like him at all. He's not the kind of guy to hit the bar after work, let alone stay out anywhere close to this late. He can feel himself spiraling out of control, but he can't seem to find the motivation to stop himself. He knocks back another drink to drown out the rational voice in the back of his mind yelling that this isn't going to fix any of his problems. Right now he's in the mood to make some bad decisions. Why the fuck not? He's fucked up so much already, there's really nothing else he can ruin. The more he drinks, the more he blurs out what happened earlier, and the closer he gets to not feeling like the world's shittiest excuse for a father and husband.

Some time between his second and third Jack and Coke he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He's completely ditched his tie after the fourth. He's wearing one of his good suits, the expensive ones he started to buy after he became a partner at the firm, so it's a good thing he ditched the jacket in the back of his car before he came in. He's pretty sure he reeks of booze at this point. After about two hours, he ends up slumped over the bar and Big Bob asks if he needs to call a cab for him. Nick just shakes his head and rasps out, "Another." Big Bob's mouth is a grim, straight line, but he doesn't say anything. He just sets one more drink down in front of him. Nick is pretty sure Big Bob has been intentionally watering down his drinks or giving him half ice at this point, but he's too drunk to care. The only thing he cares about is the fact that the alcohol keeps flowing.

It's almost 3AM, and he watches as the last patrons stumble out, tripping over each other's feet with their arms wrapped tight around the other. The bartender has already gone around to wipe down all the tables and he is now restocking the shelves with newly dried glasses. It's only a little while before last call and the bar closes. He should leave and go back hom- _Fuck._

Right. He can't go home. It's not even his fucking home anymore. It's just a house where he used to live that he can't call his anymore because he's fucked it all up. And now he doesn't have anywhere else to go. He doesn't even have a place to spend the night, except the backseat of his car or the couch in his law office. He's used up all the cash on him getting drunk off his ass so he can't even get a motel room. Shit.

He knocks back the last dregs of his drink and motions for the bartender to get him something stronger. Big Bob rolls his eyes before giving him a nod and slowly makes his way back to the bar.

"Nicholas!"

A familiar voice echoes across the room, high pitched with the signature enthusiasm of a frat-boy on bid day. Even after all these years, he would know that voice anywhere. It grates on Nick's already frayed nerves, but he manages to paste on a polite smile. "Hey, Schmidt."

His old college roommate slides onto the stool next to him, clapping him on the shoulder in a friendly and overly intimate gesture. Nick tries to cut him off, to say he's just about to leave or has to go to the bathroom, but Schmidt doesn't seem to pick up on his reluctance and plows ahead as if Nick were just as excited as Schmidt about this chance encounter.

"Nicholas Miller! I can't believe it. What's your poison? Bartender? Get this man a drink on me!"

Schmidt is loud and pushy, just like he was in college, but he's dropped nearly 200 pounds, which seems to have only further inflated his massive ego. The last thing Nick wants right now is company, but he's not going to say no to free drinks. So he gives Schmidt a forced smile and a muttered, "Thanks."

The bartender sets down two glasses of whiskey, and Schmidt gives Big Bob a cocky grin before turning back to Nick. "So how have you been, man? It sure has been awhile, hasn't it? Feels like just yesterday we graduated and you were off to law school while I entered the glamourous world of consulting. I haven't seen you in person since your wedding. How's Caroline?"

Nick takes a long drink and contemplates lying. It'd be so easy, to smile and say they're fine, to pull out the pictures of Abbi and Caroline he keeps in his wallet and pretend like everything's okay. The picture-perfect family with the perfect life and none of the messy reality. Maybe if he keeps up the charade long enough things will fix themselves, and then he won't have to admit his failure to anyone but himself.

He's always had a respectable tolerance for alcohol, the one good thing his father ever gave him, but he's way past normal Drunk Nick right now and is leaning dangerously into weepy Drunk Nick territory. Normal Drunk Nick tells funny rambling jokes at the bar and does stupid drunk shit like streak down Main Street. Weepy Drunk Nick is the one that's inconveniently honest and likes to vomit his feelings all over the place. But right now he can't even remember how many drinks he's had and maybe he's a little more lonely than he'd like to admit.

"Not great, Schmitty. Not great."

To his credit, Schmidt doesn't say anything particularly douchey or insensitive, he just nods sympathetically, and takes a sip of his drink like he's waiting for Nick to finish his thought. For a guy who always has an opinion and isn't afraid to express it, Schmidt has always had a surprising capacity for listening to others. Nick feels a pang of nostalgia. He remembers how much he had liked living with Schmidt, liked the way Schmidt was loud and enthusiastic in contrast to his own quiet, reserved nature.

He had felt invincible back then. He was the first Miller to go to college and it had opened up a whole sky of possibilities to him. Things were simple. It was a life free from any of the harsh realities he would have to face after graduation. No family at home worrying about him. No stress about networking and "climbing the career ladder." His future had been this big, blurry mess that he had no idea how to discern, but one he had no difficulty ignoring. And that was fine, because he was young and he thought he had all the time in the world to figure everything out and get his shit together. He lived life from one weekend to the next, ignoring any potential crisis over what he would be doing in five or ten years.

It's all different now. He has a wife and a kid and a high-paying career, all the trappings of an outwardly successful adult life. He's no longer spending every afternoon getting high and avoiding responsibility like the plague, but he doesn't have that feeling of invincibility either. Life has a way of grinding that kind of hope out of you. Maybe that sort of thing can only exist when you're young, before you have really lived and learned how the world actually works.

It could just be the drinks talking, but he still feels like there's something good here between him and Schmidt, even after all these years. They've grown up, but there's a part of him that longs for when things were simpler and his biggest concern was a twelve-page paper instead of the crushing disappointment of letting down the two people who depend on him the most.

Before tonight, he always thought his family was permanent. It's how he's defined himself for the last eleven years. But he's lost them, and now he feels like he's slipping off the edge, frantically grasping for the fragments of the relationships he has long since abandoned and left to wither. Can Schmidt see the desperation in his eyes? Is he going to offer him a hand and pull him off the ledge? Should he? He's not responsible for him. Nick feels all the lost years between them. They haven't kept in touch at all. Not that Schmidt didn't try at first, but it was Nick who had brushed off Schmidt's attempts to maintain their friendship. It was Nick who ignored Schmidt's invitations to hang out and forgot to return his numerous calls and emails until Schmidt had faded out of his life. But yet here Schmidt is, showing up when Nick needs him most. It's a sliver of hope appearing out of the darkness and Nick suddenly feels like he's not entirely alone.

"What's wrong?" Schmidt asks gently.

Nick sighs. Maybe it's the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream, or the way he's so full of guilt and self loathing that he can't seem to press it down anymore, but there's some part of him that actually wants to open up and tell his old college buddy why his marriage is falling apart.

"The real question is, what haven't I managed to fuck up?" Nick says wryly. He shakes his head and takes a swig of his drink. It burns the back of his throat a little, but he's not sure if that's the whiskey or the bitter taste of admitting his failure out loud. "My wife hates me because she thinks I've abandoned her to become some bigshot corporate lawyer. I barely see my own daughter anymore because I'm constantly working late. I'm just trying to do the right thing here. I've worked so hard so that they can have a good life. I thought I was being a good husband, the kind of upstanding guy who just wants the best for his family, but apparently I've just been blind. I've let things get so bad that Caroline thinks the only thing I can do to fix it is to leave."

"Shit." Schmidt shakes his head and sips at his drink, contemplative and non-judgmental, just taking in Nick's revelation. "When did this happen?"

"Tonight."

Schmidt's eyes widen in disbelief. "Shit."

"Yeah. So I guess I've gotta figure all this shit out. I guess the silver lining is Caroline didn't actually say she wanted a divorce. Maybe we just need some space to cool things down. Or maybe that's just me reading too far into it. There's no way in hell I'm gonna give up on my family, but the last thing I want to do is put my daughter through a messy custody battle." Nick groans, realizing he's spinning in circles. "Fuck. I just want things to go back to normal."

He drops his head into his hands. _God, this is a fucking mess. All because of him._

"Wait, shit." Nick looks over at Schmidt, suddenly realizing that this is his old college buddy, his ex-best friend, and not some personal therapist. "Sorry for dumping all this on you, man. This probably isn't what you expected when you came over. I know we aren't friends anymore-"

"Are you kidding me?" Schmidt cuts him off, "It's all good, man. And for the record, I never stopped being your friend. You're my dawg. And when you're Schmitty's dawg, you're his dawg for life."

Nick chuckles and shakes his head. He'd missed Schmidt and his ridiculous sayings, no matter how cliché and annoying they could be. Schmidt always believed in him, didn't he? He believes in him even now when he doesn't have any reason to, when he doesn't even deserve it. His chest feels a little lighter and he regrets not making enough of an effort to stay in touch like they said they would. "Thanks, man," he says with sincere gratitude.

They fall into a companionable silence, just two guys sitting at the bar at last call and enjoying a drink together. Nick feels like he's back in college, before his relationship with Caroline got serious and he started spending more time with her than the rest of his buddies. Not that it was such a terrible thing, because he loved her and had needed to grow up a little. Meeting her had finally made him think about an actual future for himself. It's when he stopped running around getting drunk and trying to pull off crazy schemes with his friends and started to act like an adult. After graduation he moved in with Caroline and he was so stressed at law school that he barely had time for anything that wasn't cramming for class. That's just what happens; people get older and they stop spending time with each other. Except he's built up his whole life around his wife and daughter and now that they're gone he's starting to realize he has no one else to turn to.

"Well, Nick," Schmidt says, clearing his throat and breaking the moment. "The way I see it, you can only take life one day at a time. You can't change the past, and you can't really control the future; the only thing you can have any effect on is the present. You have to figure out how to get your feet back underneath you again before you can start looking up and walking forward."

Nick nods. It makes sense. Every time he tries to think about what the future holds his mind is suddenly paralyzed by the thoughts of a hundred different worst-case scenarios. It's like he's stuck in neutral, spinning his wheels and being upset that he's going nowhere. He feels so helpless, like the future he wants is so far away from where he is now that he has no idea how he's going to get there. He needs to focus on the immediate future, on putting one foot in front of the other, praying the choices he makes will take him back to his family.

"So Caroline wants some space to process things. What's your next move?"

He considers the question carefully. "I need a place to stay, preferably cheap, something short-term."

Schmidt grins and elbows him in a friendly gesture. "You're in luck, buddy. 'Cause I know just the place: beautiful spatial concept, exposed brick and open floor plan, sun-soaked hardwood floors with a beigey backsplash-"

"I don't know, man-"

"Nicholas, my brother from another mother, I'm talking about living with me! It's a four bedroom loft, and our buddy just moved out last week so we've got an empty room. Between all of us the rent and utilities are cheaper than a motel, and I can cover for you if you're really strapped for cash. You could still leave whenever you need to."

The offer catches him off guard. He hasn't seen Schmidt in over ten years, and now after a ten minute conversation the guy is giving him a place to crash for as long as he needs. It's an insane, over-the-top gesture, but it's a classic Schmidt move. For all his false swagger, Schmidt is still one of those people who would give you the shirt off his back without a second thought. Despite his drastically different outward appearance, Schmidt's heart really hasn't changed much over the years, and he's grateful for it. With the amount of alcohol coursing through his bloodstream, he can't tell if this is a brilliant idea or a disastrous one. He's three sheets to the wind and everything sounds better than the shithole he's in at the moment. He tries to channel all his residual brainpower into thinking through this decision.

It's not like he has a lot of options here. This is it. The end of the road. He should just accept the offer and figure out everything else in the morning. He still hesitates though. Accepting this will make it real. He can't go back to the office and pretend his job is keeping him away from his family like it usually is. Work is the only place that will take his sorry ass back. His home isn't his anymore. And moving in somewhere else is just one more step away from temporary and closer towards permanent. On the other hand, he can't really make any changes if he's a homeless bum living out of his car who doesn't even have a place to shower. He feels the future shame crawling up his spine at the idea of putting himself through the humiliation of the gossip at work. That's still a deeper sort of shame than this, regressing to living with his best friend and having roommates in his thirties.

A distant part of his brain clicks into lawyer mode. If he and Caroline really get divorced, agreeing to this would hurt his chances of fighting for joint custody of Abbi. That line of thought sends a spike of panic through his chest, so he pushes it to the back of his mind to deal with later. He wants to slap himself and wake up from this terrible nightmare. But this is reality. He can't just wish for things and expect them to come true. Nothing is ever that easy, but he swears on his life that he's going to fix it, no matter what it takes. He's going to get his family back. This is all just temporary. He just needs a place to crash until the storm blows over and they can repair all the damage on the surface. That's all this is, really. Surface damage. And somewhere underneath it all he knows that there's still a chance for them.

He turns back to Schmidt. "I don't want to impose on you or anything. I mean, it's been years since we've lived together."

"Nah, man. You'd be doing _me_ a favor. This way I won't have to find some rando on Craigslist to be our new roommate."

Nick frowns, because it still feels like some sort of pity gesture. And it's still kinda crazy. This isn't crashing on an old buddy's couch. Schmidt's offering him a place in his own home, for as long as Nick needs it. It feels a little like it was meant to be, the way he just happened to run into his old college buddy at this bar and how he coincidentally was looking for a new roommate. Like a weird twist of fate. That might just be Drunk Nick talking, but either way he's got a surprisingly good feeling about this.

Nick looks back at Schmidt, who looks hopeful underneath his 'cool guy' bravado. Nick's mouth quirks up at the edge. Schmidt always was a shitty actor. "Alright. I'll take a look at it."

Schmidt lights up, and knocks back the rest of his drink to hide his glee at Nick's decision. "Why not now?"

* * *

Nick finishes his own drink while Schmidt insists on paying for both of their tabs. Schmidt nearly talks his ear off in the cab ride there, speculating about design layouts and furniture and the different lighting concepts that Nick could try out in the empty room.

There's a heavy weight in Nick's gut that weighs him down as they ride the elevator up to the fourth floor and it sinks all the way to his feet when he's standing at the front door. Schmidt is nearly vibrating with excitement as he unlocks the door, only managing to fit the key into the slot after three tries. The door finally swings open and Nick hesitantly follows Schmidt inside, not quite sure what to expect.

He looks around at the space, taking in the warehouse-like style of the building. The loft is nice, far nicer than some decrepit motel room. It's a big open space, but with enough clutter to feel lived in. Schmidt's obsessive tidiness seems to have translated well to the bigger space. It feels like somewhere an adult would live and not some messy frat house.

"This is the main living area. Isn't it a great space?" Schmidt says, gesturing around like he's auditioning for _House Hunters_. "Down the hall is the bathroom, and your room would be there on the left."

Nick pokes his head into the spare room. Their old roommate left a worn-down boxspring and mattress behind, along with an upturned crate that seems to serve as a nightstand. The room is otherwise bare, just a small box with a bed in the middle and he feels a little sad just standing in the tiny space. Nick's not gonna lie and try to convince himself the whole situation isn't sort of depressing, but that pretty much sums up his life at the moment. Honestly, he should be grateful that Schmidt is even offering this to him. It's leagues better than any of his other options, and this way he still keeps his personal and his private life separate. No office gossip about his separation. No concerned looks from his assistant Teresa once she realizes that he's living out of his office. No one else who has to know he no longer has a family to go home to at the end of the night.

He follows Schmidt back into the kitchen, tuning out his friend's monologue on the virtues of stainless steel. Schmidt's tone switches and catches Nick's attention again, "Oh, you remember Winston, right?"

Standing at the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal is his old childhood friend from Chicago. _Shit, everyone from his past is coming out of the woodwork tonight._ Winston looks up from some sports article he's reading on his laptop.

"Nick! Man, it's good to see you." Winston sets his bowl down on the counter and pulls Nick into a quick embrace before clapping him on the back.

"Hey, you too, pal. Last I heard you were playing pro ball in Latvia."

Winston shrugs, "Blew out my knee and got sent home."

Nick winces. "Sorry to hear that, man," he says sympathetically, but Winston just waves him off.

Schmidt cuts in excitedly, like he can't hold the good news back any longer. "Nick's thinking about moving into Coach's old room."

"Cool. The gang's all back together. It'll be just like old times. Did Schmidt tell you about-" Winston trails off, and out of the corner of his eye Nick can see Schmidt making a slashing motion across his throat. "-the landlord," he finishes lamely. "Nothing else. No weird roommates here."

It's an odd statement, and Nick wants to dig into that further but Winston makes a beeline for the kitchen sink and occupies himself with rinsing out his breakfast dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. Both Schmidt and Winston clearly don't want to talk about it and he's still half-past drunk so he decides to let it go. After the shitty day he's had, he's sure it's nothing he can't deal with.

Winston walks back over to the kitchen island and snaps his laptop shut before sliding it into a bag that he slings over his shoulder. "Well, I gotta get going, but I'll catch up with you later."

He waves goodbye to the both of them before leaving the loft. Schmidt watches him go and turns to Nick. "He works the night shift for some sports radio station, so you likely won't be seeing too much of him."

Nick nods, looking around the space and trying to imagine himself living here. It's different from his home, and part of him feels like he's stepped back in time to when he was just some dumb college kid trying to get the girl who lived down the hall to notice him. He feels out of place, because he is. He's not some carefree twenty year old anymore. He's got a wife and a kid and a mortgage and a career to think about. Guys like him aren't supposed to go through things like this. He had a life plan. He's achieved just about everything he set out to do. He doesn't know why it seems that lately all those things are slipping right out of his fingers and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

Maybe this is where he belongs. The perfect kind of place for a guy who realizes he's not any kind of man at all. _Fuck, he's in his thirties and he's moving back in with his college roommate._ He can feel that now-familiar bubble of shame and self-loathing building in the pit of his stomach. But he tries to press it back down and focus on the positives, however few they may be. This isn't some long-term solution, just a soft place to land so he can get back on his feet. He's not some overgrown frat boy trying to relive his college glory days. He's a family man who just needs a little time to get his shit together and figure out how to make things right at his real home.

"So?" Schmidt's voice breaks him out of his thoughts. "What do you think?"

"It's just for a little while." It feels like he has to keep saying that out loud. Maybe it will convince the Universe to keep it true. Maybe he's just trying to convince himself.

"Of course."

"Like a few days, _maximum_ ," he repeats.

Schmidt bobs his head in agreement, "Totally."

"And you're sure this is cool? You're not just doing this out of guilt for your ex-best friend who you just happened to run into at the bar?"

"I already told you, man," Schmidt grins at him and claps a hand on Nick's shoulder. "We're still best friends. Would I ever lie to you?"

Nick sighs. "Alright."

Schmidt lets out a loud whoop and pulls Nick into a bear hug. Nick had almost forgotten that Schmidt was such a big hugger. This would usually be the point where Nick would immediately wiggle out of his arms and shove Schmidt off of him. But instead Nick lets his best friend wrap his arm around his shoulders and ruffle his hair before letting him go. He still makes a face and punches his best friend in the arm when Schmidt's releases him because that's what they've always done. He remembers they weren't only best friends, once; they were practically brothers.

"Aw man, this is gonna be great. Nick and Schmidt: The Reunion Tour," Schmidt says excitedly, waving his arms around and flashing that bright grin of his. "I'm making commemorative t-shirts."

Nick rolls his eyes, but he's glad that there's still someone in this world who's happy to have him in their life. "So, I know you and Winston already. But who's this fourth guy?"

"Well... about that..." Schmidt looks around nervously, and Nick starts to worry.

Is there something he's missing? He glances around the room, trying to identify what might be out of place. There are several boxes of tea on the counter, which isn't odd besides the fact that Schmidt's always been a coffee guy and Winston swears by those energy drinks that are supposed to be horrible for your health. Nick gets an image in his mind of their long-haired, tea-loving hippie roommate. Is that it? He can totally deal with living with a pot-smoking bohemian. Hell, he was that guy back in college. It would really complete this return to his past self, the mellow guy who always had the good pot.

His eyes are drawn up to the fridge where there's several photos stuck to the metal surface. There's one with a giddy looking Schmidt pointing to a school bus with two thumbs up while a woman in a blue dress holds up a banner with his face on it that reads "Happy 35th!" And there's the same woman again, but this time standing next to Winston, the two of them holding handbells and wearing mock-serious expressions. Another with Schmidt, Winston, and the woman dressed up for some sort of wild-west themed party, grinning drunkenly at whoever was taking the photo. Nick frown as his brain pieces the puzzle together.

There's a bad feeling in his gut, and he glances over to the living room. Over by the couch is a big basket of what looks like yarn, alongside an abandoned pair of what appear to be women's shoes, the dressy kind but without a high heel.

"Schmidt..."

"Okay, so it's not a fourth _guy_ ," Schmidt says apologetically, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "But Jess is cool. Totally normal; no singing whatsoever. I'll have you know she's never made up a theme song for herself. She's been here for a few months now, and I know what you're going to ask, and no, we have not had sex." He pauses, nervously staring at Nick, trying to gauge the other man's reaction. "Honestly, it's not as bad as you'd think."

Nick sighs. _Girl roommate._ It's not what he was expecting, but he's lived with a woman for almost 15 years. He can handle a few days; no sweat. And really, at this point he owes Schmidt the biggest favor possible. It'd be insane for him to let a little thing like this trip him up. _It'll be fine_ , he says to himself, as he looks at the felt mural hanging on the wall. The group portrait of Schmidt, Winston, and the woman with huge blue eyes from the photos stare back at him with wide, multi-cloth smiles. _Totally fine._


	5. Jessica Day: Hostess Extraordinaire

Jess wakes up bright and early on Saturday morning, reviewing her itinerary for the day in her mind before she even opens her eyes. She excitedly hops out of bed, but her foot slides unexpectedly on the floor of her room. It catches her off balance, her arms flailing at her sides as she falls backwards and hits the ground hard. From her new position she spots the culprit, a piece of paper that was shoved under her door sometime last night. She rubs at the sore spot on her back as she reads the note:

 _Jessica,_

 _Sorry for the short notice, but I just found us a new roommate and he's moving in today. His name's Nick and he's the shining star of my heart, so please for the love of God don't scare him away. He's going through a rough time so no prying into his personal life. No more weird art. And NO SINGING. UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES._

 _-Schmidt_

Jess scoffs. _Scare him away, as if_. She prides herself on her excellent hostessing abilities and welcoming disposition. She was voted friendliest person in her high school four years in a row, and she single-handedly developed the Southeastern School Board New Student Initiation Program. It's listed on her resume. She's going to welcome the crap out of him just to rub it in Schmidt's face when their new roommate likes her better than him. This definitely calls for baked goods, and she runs through a list of potential options as she brushes her teeth, trying to recall the contents of their pantry. They're running low on powdered sugar, so frosting's out of the picture. Maybe a nice batch of muffins to get his Saturday morning off to a sweet start. She was voted Class President based on her double chocolate muffins alone, so this should be a cakewalk. _Take that, Schmidt._

She walks into the kitchen, and there's a guy sitting at the kitchen island reading an actual newspaper as he sips at a mug of coffee. The man is handsome in an average kind of way, with dark hair that matches his brown eyes, and a light shade of stubble on his cheeks. He looks familiar, but it takes a few moments to place him since he's wearing a worn t-shirt and a pair of Schmidt's old sweatpants instead of a suit.

"Mr. Miller?" she asks in disbelief.

The guy's head jerks up and he looks at her with his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Wait, _you're_ Jess?"

"Um, yeah. What are you doing here?" _Where are her manners! This isn't the trademark Jessica Day housewarming celebration she's known for!_ She hesitates for a second before managing to recover, "I mean, welcome to our home!"

"Thanks?" He still seems to be figuring out what to make of the situation. "And uh, I guess I'm living here. Temporarily. So you don't have to do the whole Mr. Miller thing. Nick's fine."

So he is the "Nick" that Schmidt mentioned in the note. What are the chances? It feels a little like some kind of sit-com plot, an unexpected twist that keeps bringing two characters together over and over. Sure, she likes to pretend her life is a movie sometimes. She totally practices the witty banter she would do with talk show hosts while she's knitting and drafts her Oscar acceptance speech in the shower. Who doesn't? But this is ridiculous. This isn't some kind of network television show; this is real life. She moved into the loft after her boyfriend of six years cheated on her, and now her new roommate just happens to be the father of a student she had in her gifted and talented class last year. It's a coincidence. No big deal.

But wait, why is he living here? What about Abbi? It's been a few months, but she can vaguely recall meeting Abbi's mom ( _Coraline? Carol?)_ at several school functions and listening to her excuses as to why her husband couldn't make it. This must be a recent development. But then again she'd never met Mr. Miller until last night. She had always wondered if they were separated and Abbi's mom was one of those divorced women who kept their ex-husband's last name and referred to their former spouses as if they were still married.

She has a million questions, but she can hear Schmidt's voice ringing in the back of her head. _Don't be a snoop, Jessica Day. You're always in everybody else's business. Even worse, you're terrible at it. You wouldn't last a week as a private eye. You're as subtle as a gynecologist wearing a gas mask. Or a one-man band falling down a flight of stairs. Save yourself the embarrassment._

"Are you moving into Coach's empty room?" Jess asks as she pulls out the flour and digs into the back of the pantry for the empty box of quinoa she hides all her chocolate in.

"Sorta," Nick says with a shrug.

Jess waits for him to elaborate, but he just takes another sip of his coffee and turns back to his paper. _So that's how it is. Well, Mr. Nick Miller, prepare to be dazzled into small talk by my astounding charm and wit._

"You're up pretty early for a Saturday," she says casually, as she measures out sugar and flour and dumps it into a big mixing bowl.

Nick nods and gives a noncommittal "Hmm."

She smiles, "Any big plans for the day?"

"Just work."

"On a Saturday?" Jess laughs as she folds the cocoa powder into her dry ingredients. "You sure do work a lot."

"Well, it's my job, so..." he trails off, his tone dismissive and a touch bitter.

She narrows her eyes at him. He's stonewalling her.

Nick stands up, folding his newspaper in half and tucking it under his arm. He rinses his coffee mug and sets it in the dishwasher before nodding at Jess and walking out of the kitchen.

Jess fumes as she finishes the batter for her chocolate muffins, channeling her frustration into whisking up her wet ingredients. She's putting the first batch into the oven when Nick reappears in the hallway, this time in a dark, navy suit.

"Are you heading out already?" she asks in disbelief, checking the timer even though she just set it four seconds ago. "Well, you're too early for muffins, but I'll make sure to save you one for when you get back!"

Nick checks his watch and rifles through his leather briefcase. "Actually, I'm not a dessert person."

The statement catches Jess off guard because, seriously? What sane person doesn't like dessert? She's still reeling from this mind-blowing revelation when she realizes he's walking out the door and she barely has time to yell out a quick, "Have a nice day!" He waves absentmindedly at her, and then he's out the door without another word.

Jess groans and flops onto the couch. This is going to be harder than she thought.

* * *

She spends nearly an hour trying to research the personality traits of people who don't like dessert, and then another hour trying to find Nick online. His Facebook is useless, just a slightly blurry profile picture and the fact that he's married to Caroline Miller. She digs a little deeper and finds him on LinkedIn, a slightly clearer photo of him in a suit and his employment: _Partner at Meriwether and Associates LLP_. But that's where the paper trail stops; he's so far off the grid it's like he doesn't even exist. Jess wastes another hour of searching unsuccessfully before she gives up and decides to get an expert opinion.

"What do you want, Jess?" Schmidt asks, sounding irritated as he 'lounges' on his bed in what looks like an incredibly uncomfortable position.

"So," she says, trying to be casual as she leans up against the door to Schmidt's room. "Nick."

Schmidt smiles brightly. "He's great, isn't he?"

Jess nervously twists a lock of her hair between her fingers. She's sure that Nick is a great guy; Schmidt wouldn't be so passionate about him if he weren't. But she can't get to know him if he won't talk to her. "Well, about that-"

He groans. "Jess, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she interjects, but Schmidt just ignores her.

"You sang at him, didn't you?" he bemoans in his classically overdramatic fashion. "Jess, I _specifically_ prohibited singing. God, now he's going to want to move out. Thanks a lot for ruining this for me, _Jessica_."

"No, he's not moving out," Jess sighs, rolling her eyes. Schmidt relaxes, mouthing _Thank God_ at his ceiling.

Nick was polite and a little reserved when they met just the other night, but that was because the extraordinary circumstances made it a little awkward to have a deep heart-to-heart conversation. That was fine, because he was just a parent of one of her former students. But they're roommates now. She wants to get to know him better. She doesn't just want to be his roommate or Schmidt's buddy-by-association. She wants to be his actual friend. She doesn't think it's too much to ask about his dreams, thoughts, fears, feelings. They do live together, after all. But she can't do any of that if he won't talk to her.

"I can't seem to crack him," Jess explains.

"Crack him?" Schmidt looks deeply concerned.

"Yeah!" she smiles excitedly, giving the air a little fist pump to help explain her point. "He's a walnut, and I'm gonna break him out of that hardened shell and really get at that sweet nut inside."

"You hear yourself when you talk, right?" He looks equal parts disgusted and amused. Admittedly, the metaphor had sounded better in her head.

"Schmidt-" she whines.

"Okay fine," Schmidt huffs. "Here's what you need to know about Nick. He's from Chicago. He's a lawyer and he works an insane number of hours per week. We lived together in college and became best friends. And that's all really."

"That's all? He's your _best friend_. I've never seen you this excited about someone, especially some guy. What's so special about him?"

Schmidt sighs, and she's never heard someone become so exasperated about talking about their best friend. "It's a guy thing, Jessica. You wouldn't get it. He's my platonic soulmate."

Jess frowns. She just wants Nick to feel welcome here, like he's a part of their little loft family. But she can't do that if she can't get him to give her more than a two-word response to her incredibly well-crafted conversation starters. He doesn't even like dessert, so she can't worm her way into his heart with food like she did with Schmidt and Winston.

"Look, Jess." Schmidt shifts so he's sitting upright on the edge of his bed. "Nick isn't the kind of guy who wants to sit around and talk about his feelings. He's pretty private. And he's going through a lot of shit right now, so it's best to give him some space to deal with it."

"Or..."

"Jessica," he pleads, "I'm begging you-"

"This sounds like the perfect time to break out the good old feelings stick," she says with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly.

"Absolutely not."

" _Who's gonna be Nick's new best friend? It's Jess!"_ she sing-songs, throwing in a little spin for good measure. Schmidt groans exasperatedly and flops back onto the bed.

* * *

Nick doesn't come home until after ten, arms laden with two file boxes full of paperwork and a bag of Chinese takeout precariously balanced on top. He waves off her offer to help him carry his things, just carefully maneuvers into the loft and kicks open the door to his room. Jess tries to corner him when he ducks into the kitchen to grab a beer, but he manages to slip right past her. She tries to focus on grading her assignments but her thoughts keep drifting across the hall, where her roommate is all alone in his new home with only a box of fried rice and a few dumplings for company.

After over an hour of being too distracted to get anything done, she decides to cut her losses and finish what she's doing in the morning. Jess sets aside her work and stretches as she stands up from her desk. The door to Nick's new room is closed, so she knocks lightly before opening it and peers her head around the corner. Nick is sitting on his bed leaning up against the wall, frowning as he reads through an important looking sheaf of documents. He's no longer in his suit jacket, and he's loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He looks weirdly formal sitting on his bed surrounded by stacks of documents and file folders.

"Hey, Nick!"

He looks up at her. "Can I help you, Jess?"

"Oh no, just wanted to say hi." She smiles, fiddling with the bow on her sundress. Nick has already turned his attention back to his work, circling something and jotting a few notes down in the margins.

Jess forces her smile a little wider and reminds herself to keep her eyes on the prize. "Did you have a good day at work?"

"I'm a corporate lawyer," he responds, not even looking up from his reading. "I don't have 'good' days at work."

Okay, so that explains the grumpy attitude. That's something she can work with. Maybe he's one of those misery-loves-company types. They could bond over their mutual hatred of horrible bosses and too much paperwork. Now she just needs to find a way to jumpstart a conversation between them.

She looks around the tiny room. It's weird to see it so empty. It seems bare without Coach's old sports trophies or his miscellaneous workout gear scattered around the room. Coach's room used to look lived-in. Nick has barely unpacked. He's hung up a few suits and shirts in the closet, but the rest of his things remain in the open suitcase on the floor. The only furniture in the room is the bed and a small box next to it where his phone is charging. He's only been here for a day, but maybe he needs some help getting started, or carrying his furniture up the stairs. It's the perfect excuse to spend some time with him.

"Did you need any help unpacking?"

Nick looks up and around the room. "No, I think I've got it."

"Well, you know where to find me if you need me." Jess points over her shoulder at her room. Nick just nods and turns the page of whatever legal document he's working on.

There's a full minute of silence, where Jess just stands there, waiting for him to say something, anything, to acknowledge her presence. She feels like she's back in high school, standing in the corner of the lunch room hoping one of the cool kids would ask her to come join them at their table. At this point she's more than a little upset. It's common courtesy and she's not asking for much here. Seriously, would it kill this guy to have a five minute conversation with her?

"You know, I was hoping to make a quick run to Ikea tomorrow to check out this dresser I've been wanting. Did you want to tag along, maybe get some stuff to make this place look a little homier?"

Nick finally sets aside what he's doing and looks up at her. She's excited for half a second until she takes in the annoyed look on his face.

"Look, Jess," his voice is strained and tense. "Schmidt's doing me a favor and letting me crash here for a few days. I'm not moving in. So you can stop whatever this thing you're doing is. You don't have to be nice to me. Now, can you please just leave me alone? I've got a ton of work to do and I can't focus with you standing there."

"Well, fine." Jess grits her teeth and glares at him. "Sorry to be such a bother to you."

Jess spins on her heel and leaves, slamming the door behind her when she walks out. She storms into the kitchen and starts to make a cup of tea with more force than is necessary, yanking open the cabinet door and snatching the tea bag out of its box. Her mug nearly shatters from the strength she uses to set it down onto the counter.

"You're making chai tea _now?_ " Winston remarks as he walks up to the counter, already dressed for work. He reaches over the island to grab a banana and asks, "Jess, you know if you have that now there's no way you'll be able to fall asleep."

Jess glares at him and Winston holds up his hands in a conciliatory gesture before slowly backing away and heading out the door.

She takes a sip before it has time to cool and curses when it burns her tongue. She let it steep a little too long; the taste is so strong it's almost bitter. And Winston's right, chai tea does get her hyped up for some unknown reason. She's already angry so the combination is making her feel jittery and like her heart is beating too fast in her chest. She blames Nick for all of these things. A part of her feels ridiculous, because maybe she is overreacting. But another part of her is sitting on the the couch with a burned tongue, a ruined cup of tea, and a bruised ego, too wound up from a little not-really-a-fight with her roommate to really care whether or not she's making a mountain out of a molehill.

Okay, maybe she was being a little nosey, but then again Abbi was one of her favorite students. When she met Nick on parent-teacher night she was glad to see him making an effort to reach out to his daughter. She thought it was something they could bond over, their mutual adoration for this bright, wonderful human that has connected both of their lives. She believes everyone meets the people in their lives for a reason, and she needs to figure out why Fate made their paths cross. Something pretty bad must've happened for Nick to be crashing here at the loft, even if it's only temporary. Schmidt had mentioned that Nick was dealing with a lot, but he was too vague for her to actually figure out what he meant. And speak of the devil-

"Chai tea, Jess? At this hour?" Schmidt says as he stumbles into the loft, tie loosened around his neck and smelling distinctly like tequila.

"Like you're one to talk," she responds, eying him skeptically. "How many drinks have you had?"

Schmidt thumps his chest, "Work hard, play hard, son."

"Jar," she responds sternly.

Schmidt just smiles roguishly at her and drops a dollar in the Douchebag Jar. He reaches over to try and press a kiss to her cheek, but she jokingly shoves him away, so instead he pats the top of her head with an uncoordinated arm. The action knocks her glasses askew, and Jess glares at him as she fixes them, but it's really just for show. He laughs and meanders back towards the kitchen to fill a glass of water.

He drains the glass, somehow managing not to spill it all over himself. "Hey," he says suddenly, like he's just remembered something important. "Is my boy Nick home yet?"

"Ugh. _Nick_ ," she repeats angrily, and her mood sours once again.

Schmidt frowns and sets his empty glass on the counter before walking over to join her on the couch. He incoherently mumbles something along the lines of "parkour" and attempts to slide into the seat beside her by launching himself over the top of the couch, but just barely manages to clear the little bookshelf behind them. It knocks his balance off and he practically rolls into her lap before immediately falling onto the floor. She snorts when he hits the ground with an _oof_ , and Schmidt grins drunkenly, as if that was his plan all along. He hoists himself up off the rug and plops onto the couch, his back leaning up against Jess' side and his legs sprawled over the empty seat. "What's up, Jess?"

She sighs, looking down at her half-full mug of tea. "I can't get Nick to like me."

Schmidt nods, looking a little too thoughtful for how plastered he is. "Don't feel too bad, Jess. Nick doesn't really like anyone. He's a tough guy to love."

"Why do you guys get along so well?" she asks, because it still doesn't make sense to her how a rambunctious guy like Schmidt could become best friends with a closed-off guy like Nick.

He shrugs. "We've known each other for a long time. We were the dream team back in college: Nick and Schmitty, the dynamic duo. Spent most weekends in bars getting drunk and doing dumb shit together. That's part of it. He's one of the funniest people I've ever known. He always had a snappy comeback or would spout off these nonsensical, poetic ramblings that somehow always made perfect sense. He's just one of those people that you meet and you just, like, instantly click with. Or he was for me, anyway." Schmidt looks off into the distance. "He wasn't always this irritable, you know. I mean, he kind of always was like this grumpy old guy trapped in a twenty year old body. It was his thing. But the bitterness is new. He never used to be bitter when I knew him before."

"What happened?"

"Life, I guess," Schmidt says as he absentmindedly traces over her knee, his finger following the line of the star on her pajama bottoms. "I was the best man at his wedding, but then after that I never heard from him again. The only way I got any info about how he was doing was from the posts his wife made on Facebook. I figured he was busy with his daughter, and then I guess when he became a partner at the law firm he got even more sucked inside his own head. It sounds stupid to say out loud, but I missed him. I mean, I'm sorry his marriage is falling apart and everything, but I'm glad he's back in my life."

Jess perks up slightly, because now she might be getting somewhere. Drunk Schmidt is a touchy-feely chatterbox. _Just stay casual_ , she reminds herself. "Wait, what's going on?"

"Well," Schmidt flops his head back onto her shoulder and stares up at the ceiling, "I don't know the _whole_ story. But apparently his wife kicked him out because he wasn't home enough. He was always at work. And now he's all sad because he thinks he's bad at husbanding and fathering. You know, midlife crisis kinda stuff."

 _Oh, wow. That really is bad._ Jess had figured it had to be something along those lines, but the reality of it is still tough to swallow. She remembers when her parents got divorced, lying in bed and listening to them argue after they thought she was asleep, not acknowledging the heavy tension in any room the two were in, visiting the tiny little apartment her dad moved into. It was easier once they were apart, but she still hated being caught between two parents who loathed each other.

She wonders how Abbi is taking this, if this is something that she's been dealing with for a while or if she's been blindsided. It can't be easy for her; she's at that weird age where she's old enough to know what's going on, but not to understand why. When her parents got divorced, Jess had wanted more than anything for things to be back to normal. It wasn't until she got older that she realized it was better for them to be apart than to keep pretending like things were fine. But there's still some tiny part of her that wonders if they might get back together one day, even if she knows that real life isn't like _The Parent Trap_.

So Nick wasn't being a jerk on purpose. Jess just needs to let him know that she's here for him if he ever wants a shoulder to cry on. He's probably one of those guys who thinks he can't talk about this stuff with his guy friends, but she knows everyone needs someone to talk to. She just needs to keep offering comfort and support and eventually he'll open up about his marital problems. She can even help him reconnect with Abbi. She's already planning the architectural influences for the feelings fort they'll build together.

"Thanks, Schmidt," she says. "Now let's get you into bed."

He reaches behind his head to pat her cheek and nearly pokes her eye out with his finger. "You're the best, Jess," he mumbles as she helps lift him off the couch and pushes him in the direction of his room. "Also, don't tell Nick about himself. That you know about him."

Jess nods, "I won't, Schmidt. Promise."

He gives her a thumbs up before falling face-first onto his mattress. Jess yanks off his shoes before turning off the lights and leaving with a whispered, "Goodnight."

* * *

The next night Nick comes home even later with the smell of whiskey on his suit jacket. He doesn't acknowledge Jess at all, even when she makes a point to ask him how he's doing. It still upsets her, but she reminds herself about what Schmidt said and tries to give him space. She gives him room to breathe, and leaves the door to her room open so that way he knows she's there, just in case he feels like talking.

Nick looks terrible the next morning, hungover and looking like he hasn't slept in two days. Jess wants to ask about how he's dealing with everything. She hates to see him hurting like this. She desperately wants to give him a big hug and tell him to take the day off work, but everything in his body language tells her to _Back Off_ , so she doesn't. He just stares down at his shoes as he walks out the door, his grip tight on his briefcase.

That afternoon she runs into Abbi, who looks downtrodden. Jess tries to stay cheery, but it's hard to see one of her brightest students look so miserable. She knows she's too close to this situation now that Nick is her roommate, so she can't really ask Abbi about what's going on without violating school policy or her own moral code, even if she's dying to know. It's driving her crazy, but there's nothing she can do besides sitting on her hands and doing nothing.

That night Nick stumbles home smelling like a distillery. Jess wants to feel bad for him, she really does, but this can't be helping the situation. He's not even trying to fix things; he's just following the same motions that got him into this mess. She doesn't want to meddle, but it's like he's not even trying. He spends all day at the office and comes home drunk every night, locking himself away in his room to keep working.

Nick gets progressively worse as the days go by. She's trying not to meddle, she's _not_ , but he's practically tearing himself apart and it's taking all her willpower not to intervene. They start having conversations about him behind his back. She and Schmidt and Winston compare notes and worry about how much sleep Nick's getting and about when his last meal was. He catches them at it once or twice, and gives them a cold look before leaving the room.

He gets even meaner to her. She tries, she really does, but as Nick's mood gets worse he responds to all her attempts to be polite with angry glares and passive-aggressive comments. She knows he's totally targeting her, by the way, because he isn't doing this to any of the other guys. Apparently she's an easy scapegoat for all his frustrations, a convenient target for him to snap at whenever she tries to ask about his day, or if he wants to come grocery shopping with her, or if he needs anything from the drug store. He starts to find any excuse to pick a fight with her. He wears her down to her last nerve.

So she stops trying.

She starts acting just as mean as he is. She regards him with the same cold demeanor he gives her. She ignores his attempts to greet her, even goes as far as to not acknowledge his presence at all. The tension between the two of them sucks all the air out of the room, but she finds that she doesn't care. Schmidt and Winston try to bring up the issue with her, but she pretends like she hasn't noticed and changes the topic before they have a chance to dig any deeper.

She doesn't care about Nick. She doesn't like him. He doesn't like her.

It's totally fine.


	6. I'm so sick of you

" _Hi! You've reached the cellphone of Caroline Miller. I'm busy right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"_

"Hey, Caroline. It's Nick. Apparently you're not answering your phone anymore since I've called you about fifty times and I've only gotten your voicemail, so thanks for that."

He has a right to be pissed off, but right now isn't the time to be petty if he wants to get back on Caroline's good side. Nick pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He's been running on nothing but stress and caffeine for days. Every time he tries to fall asleep his thoughts start to spiral down that deep, dark hole of self-loathing and regret. So instead he stays up reading legal briefings and case documents until the words blur off the page and he wakes up an hour later, slumped over his paperwork with a crick in his neck. He manages to get maybe four hours of sleep each day, spread out in little increments whenever exhaustion takes over and mutes all the awful voices in his head.

He looks like shit. The bags under his eyes are darker than ever. He'd forgotten his razor in his rush to leave, and some superstitious part of him thinks that if he buys a new one he'll have to admit that Caroline isn't going to take him back the next morning. His once neatly-trimmed stubble has grown into an unruly mess of scruff. Schmidt keeps pointedly leaving his shaving caddy on the bathroom counter, but Nick can't seem to find the motivation to shave or try to make himself look somewhat presentable. It hurts to look at himself in the mirror and see what he's become, so he avoids looking at his reflection. Instead he just stares down at his feet as he brushes his teeth, trying not to think about how many days it's been since his wife has spoken to him.

"I wanted to talk to you, but since you won't answer I guess that means you still need your space, but I don't even know what you mean by that, so if you could actually give me some sort of idea what you need from me right now, that'd be great."

How many times has he tried to get a hold of her? He's lost count at this point. He must have called her nearly twenty times at 4 a.m. last night alone, pathetically drunk dialing her like a lovelorn teenager. He didn't leave a message; he just wanted to hear the sound of his wife's voice on the other end of the line. He'd lain back on his side of the bed with the phone pressed up against his ear, staring up at the ceiling as he kept pressing re-dial and listening to the outgoing message on her answering machine over and over again. _I miss you, honey_. _Do you miss me?_ He imagines her across town curled up in what used to be their bed, falling asleep with her phone in her hand, trying to work up the nerve to call him. Pure fantasy perhaps, but he needs to believe in it.

It's been exactly a week since he last saw his family. His nerves are fried. He feels like he's just stumbling around, not actually aware of what's happening to him in his day to day life. They have to force him to leave the office at night. His assistant Teresa keeps asking if everything is alright at home with a worried look in her eyes, to which he always replies, "Of course!" in an overly chipper tone that sounds fake even to him. Fat chance he's fooling anyone.

Things aren't any better when he gets back to the loft either. Schmidt thinks he's being inconspicuous about it, but Nick knows Schmidt's trying to keep tabs on him, like he's afraid of what Nick might do if he's alone. Winston keeps trying to hug him or rub his shoulder. It's hell. He wishes all these people would just leave him the hell alone while the one person he wants to connect with has cut him out of her life.

"I know you're upset, Caroline. Whatever I did, I want you to know I'll fix it. Whatever you want, I'll do it. But I need you to talk to me and tell me what that is. Please, honey, I'm begging you. I just want our family back. I love you. Please call me back."

Nick hangs up and drops the phone on his bed. He scrubs a hand over his face and goes into the kitchen to get a drink.

Jess is sitting at the island with a pint of ice cream when he walks in. He nods at her, but she just stares icily at him for a few seconds before turning her attention back to her phone like he's not there at all. She's blocking his access to the fridge, but she doesn't move out of the way, just keeps scrolling through MyFace or InstaSnap or whatever new-fangled social media app the kids are into these days. He awkwardly maneuvers past her to open the fridge as much as he can. It's not until after he's opened the door and set two bottles of beer on the counter that she looks up from her phone.

"Oh? Am I in your way?" she feigns innocence.

He glares at her. "It's fine."

She's been playing these sort of passive-aggressive games with him all week. Apparently, she was upset that he'd snapped at her, even though she'd kept pestering him when he made it perfectly clear that all he wanted to do was to be left alone. He can already tell that she's one of those annoying people who has a problem respecting boundaries and likes sticking her nose into other people's business under the guise of being helpful.

He's been nothing but civil to her since he's been here. Yeah, he's not baking cookies with her or participating in 'Loft Movie Night' like he's at a teenage girl's sleepover, but he hardly thinks that's a reason for her to act this way to him. He doesn't want to be "besties" with her like she seems to want, no, demand, from all the other roommates. But they do still have to live together after all. So it'd would be nice if she stopped glaring at him from across the room or making snide remarks about him behind his back to Schmidt and Winston. Meanwhile, she treats everyone else with her overenthusiastically cheery attitude, almost like she's rubbing it in his face.

Nick's not sure what's more annoying: the immature way she's been acting around him, or the way she treats life like she's playing Candyland. She prances around the loft, singing constantly and generally acting like some kind of Disney princess instead of a woman in her thirties. Last week she had tried to bring a cat home after finding it all alone on the street. Schmidt had to pull out their copy of the lease to prove pets weren't allowed, and even then it took another hour for him to convince her it was a bad idea. He bet nothing bad has ever happened to Jess in her entire life. Must be nice to live in the cotton candy funland that's her imagination, but the rest of them are stuck in The Real World where problems can't be solved by throwing glitter at them and having a sharing circle with her idiotic feelings stick.

He twists off the top of his beer and checks his phone to see if Caroline has called him back. _No new messages_ , he reads with a frown. Not even a text. His heart sinks even deeper in his chest. He takes a long drink, finishing nearly half the bottle in one long pull. Jess watches him with one eyebrow raised in disapproval before going back to her phone. It's some insignificant little thing, the kind of thing he would normally brush off without too much thought. But he's exhausted. His formerly loving wife has completely cut off contact from him and every day that she refuses to acknowledge him is another step closer to him losing his family forever. The last thing he needs to deal with is some judgmental, know-it-all roommate who seems to think the world is one big rainbow-covered fairyland musical.

"Actually, you know what? It's not fine," he says, frustration evident in his voice. "Cut the crap, Jess. I know what you're doing."

Jess gapes at him with a look of mild surprise, as if she doesn't know exactly what kind of passive-aggressive game she's been playing with him for the past week. "What?" she says challengingly.

He sets his beer down on the counter and glares at her. "You can stop treating me like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe because you think I insulted your cupcakes or your mood popsicle or failed whatever bizarre test you have set up to try and figure me out. Newsflash: I live here. Get over yourself, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she responds acidically, sounding anything but. "I'm sorry for taking an actual interest in your life, _Nick_."

She's not actually interested in getting to know him. She just wants to dig her claws into his private business and find out all his dirty little secrets. He's in crisis mode dealing with the disaster that his life has become and he doesn't need strangers poking their noses where they don't belong. This is his family, not some dramatic reality television show for her to watch and make fun of, something to gossip to other people about so she can make herself sound more interesting.

"Okay, you know what, that's bullshit," he spits out. "Just because I don't want us to braid each other's hair or have a 'feelings corner fort building experience' with you doesn't mean you get to be rude to me."

"Yeah, _I'm_ the one being rude," she huffs, angrily jabbing her spoon into the carton of ice cream. "I _tried_ to be nice to you, but you couldn't even be bothered to give me the time of day."

"It's not being 'nice' if you're expecting to get something in return. That's the opposite of nice. What you're doing is selfish. Who does that? You're so damn fake, Jess."

 _God, she's so annoying. Does she even listen to herself talk? She's a walking contradiction, a manic pixie hypocrite who sets impossibly high standards for those around her while having no accountability for herself or any of the things she does._ He wonders if she's ever actually stopped to consider any of her actions, or if she just floats from one quirky activity to the next. He bets she's one of those women that refers to herself as 'adorkable.'

Jess frowns and stabs at her ice cream. "I worked hard to make sure you felt welcome here, only for you to snap at me and basically tell me to go screw myself."

"That's still not an excuse for you to behave like an immature child," he counters, and Jess scoffs. Nick rolls his eyes. She's just proving his point with that ridiculous attitude. "And you can stop acting as if you're so much better than me and get to judge every move I make."

Jess slams her spoon and carton down onto the counter and whips around to face Nick with her hands on her hips. "Fine. But for the record, I think that you practically destroying yourself isn't going to fix whatever's going on with you and Abbi and-"

That hits a nerve. She doesn't know a goddamn thing about him. She's never had to deal with any of the shit he's going through. But of course that doesn't stop her from assuming she knows everything. She's never had an ounce of responsibility her entire life and yet she acts as if she's some know-it-all queen of the Universe. This is the final straw. He's tried to be civil, but he's not holding himself back anymore.

"You don't know _anything_ about my family," he yells, the sound echoing in the big room.

She flings her arms out to the sides and shouts, " _Because you won't tell me anything about them!"_

"Oh, I'm so _sorry_ that I don't trust complete strangers with my life story," he bites back sarcastically.

Is that what she expects from everyone? Did she want his introduction to be _Hi, I'm Nick. I had a terrible relationship with my father and I'm terrified that I'm exactly like him and that my daughter will grow up to hate me the same way I hate him. Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?_ Normal people don't go around vomiting their feelings onto virtual strangers. Maybe Jessica Day, Queen of Oversharing, might think it's appropriate, but she isn't exactly what he would qualify as 'normal.'

"We're not strangers. We're roommates. _We live together._ " She says it as if it's self-explanatory. Like stringing those sentences together has created this brilliant argument for them to become Super Friends when it's probably the dumbest fucking thing he's ever heard in his entire life.

"Plenty of people aren't best friends with their roommates." He can't believe he has to actually explain this to her. "I don't know why that's so difficult for you to understand-"

"Because I'm not one of those people, Nick."

"Here's a fun fact for you, Jess: There's plenty of people who don't like you, and I'm one of them. So the sooner you can get over your compulsive need to be adored by everyone, the better."

"I don't _need_ people to like me!"

He laughs, bitter and mean. _Now that's rich._ Anyone else would be perfectly content with this level of interaction with their new roommate. Familiarity is what breeds contempt, after all. She, on the other hand, has been pestering him non-stop since he walked in the door. "Oh, yeah? Then why are you still trying to get a rise out of me?"

"Fine, Nick. I want you to like me. Are you happy?"

"No-"

"Then, what?" Jess cuts him off and crosses her arms over her chest, looking at him expectantly. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave me alone!" Nick clenches his fists to refrain himself from grabbing onto her arms and throttling her. "I don't want anything to do with you! Why don't you get that?"

"Because, Nick," she presses her fingers to her temples in frustration before gesturing back towards him and yelling, "You're clearly going through a pretty rough time and I want to be able to help you."

"It's none of your damn business!" he screams back.

"But-"

He cuts her off, jabbing his finger towards her chest. "No. You can't. Okay? Sometimes there's just nothing you can do-"

She crosses her arms back over her chest and juts out her chin. "Why can't I try?"

"Because you can't! And if you do, odds are it'll just get worse! Welcome to the real world, Jessica. You can't just fix everything that's broken."

Jess scoffs and shakes her head, "Sure you can-"

Nick groans. She doesn't get it. Not everything in life is fixable. You can't just wish for something to be perfect. You can work hard all your life and give 110% and still have your entire life fall apart. _Life is shit._ And if Jess wasn't stuck in some play-pretend fantasy she'd actually fucking know that.

"God, Jess. I swear, you're so naive! Not all of us live in some fairytale world without responsibilities where we can sit around all day with our feelings sticks and make up cute stories about puppies and rainbows."

Her eyebrows furrow and her frown deepens. "I don't do that. That's absurd."

"You know what's absurd?" he asks patronisingly. "A thirty year old woman living in a loft with two other guys because she can't afford to get her own place."

Jess recoils, wrinkling her nose resentfully. "At least I like my job! At least I don't spend every day hating myself because of what I do for a living."

"I have a _real_ job, Jessica. I have a real job that pays me good money to sit around and be miserable all day. And then I use that money to pay my bills, because I'm an adult who's living in the real world with real responsibilities and people who depend on me, where the most important thing isn't whether people like me or not. That's your problem, Jess, you don't know how to be _real_."

Jess doesn't say anything. She doesn't yell her own response back in his face or punch him in the nose. Instead, she just looks sad, her lower lip wobbles and tears build in her eyes. _Great, another woman he's brought to tears in the past week._ She whispers, "I know how to be real."

He doesn't have a response to that, so he just stares at her, his lips pursed and his hands on his hips. Jess glares at him expectantly for a moment before swiping angrily at the salty trails along her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt and running off to her room. Her door slams shut behind her and Nick groans before taking another long drink of his beer. _Super._


	7. Why you gotta be so mean?

" _Someday I'll be living in a big old city, and all you're ever gonna be is mean."_

Jess lies in bed on her stomach, earphones in and blasting Taylor Swift. She's trying, okay? She tried being nice and he was mean to her. She tried to ignore him and he was mean to her. She tried being mean back and that just made things even worse. God, she can't believe she cried in front of him. She hasn't cried in front of a guy since high school when some jerk thought it would be funny to ask her out as an April Fools' Day prank. And the really stupid thing is she still wants Nick to like her. She really is pathetic.

" _Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me, and all you're ever gonna be is mean."_

All this week Abbi has looked miserable at school. Meanwhile, Nick seems hellbent on working himself into the ground, drinking enough to destroy his liver, and sleeping only when his body forces him to. It's hard to take pity on him when he's been the architect of his own self-destruction. If the little information she has managed to wheedle out of Schmidt is right, then the reason why Nick is staying with them is because he wasn't making enough time for his family. He's only making things worse right now. He's not scaling back on his hours at the law firm. He's not setting aside time to spend with his wife and daughter. He's just wallowing in his own self-pity.

" _Why you gotta be so mean?"_

Her music is so loud that she can barely hear the knock on her bedroom door.

"Go away, Schmidt!" she yells, the sound muffled by the pillow.

There's another knock and Jess pulls out an earbud and turns her head on the pillow so she can see the door. It opens slightly and, to her surprise, Nick peers inside. "Can I come in?" he asks gently.

"I guess," she says petulantly, turning off her music.

Nick enters her room carefully, mindful of the mug in his hands. The door clicks shut behind him. He approaches where she's lying on the bed. "I made you tea," he says, offering it out as an olive branch.

Jess sits up and rubs at her nose with her shirt sleeve before taking it from him.

"Can I sit?" he asks tentatively, gesturing to the corner of the mattress.

Jess nods, and Nick slowly lowers himself onto the bed. He balances on the edge, awkwardly stiff and looking deeply uncomfortable. She looks down at the tea in her hands, a little weaker than she'd normally like, but that's mostly because she has a tendency to forget to take the bag out. It's still an exceedingly sweet gesture. She wants to stay mad at him, not make it so easy for him to just step all over her feelings and brush it off with a pity mug of tepid tea. But she can see the monumental effort that it's taking him to do this and she feels the tug on her heartstrings that's telling her to forgive him.

"I, um, didn't know how you take it," Nick rambles nervously. "My wife likes hers with milk but that always seemed weird to me. I went with honey; that felt safe."

It feels meaningful, to hear him speak about his family with her, even if it's just a fleeting mention of an insignificant fact. His voice wavers slightly over the words 'my wife.' She wonders if the wound is still fresh, if he's still reeling from whatever is going on. He has to be.

"Thanks."

He nods. They sit there for a minute, a heavy silence in the small room. Nick's hands fidget nervously, rubbing his palms against each other and wringing his fingers together. He stares straight ahead, his face focused and determined, like he's working up the courage to say something. Jess takes a sip of her tea. The mug is warm in her hands, and there's something about the slight weight that feels reassuring.

"Nick-" she starts, at the very same time he says, "Jess, I-"

She laughs nervously, "Go ahead."

Nick clears his throat, "Look, Jess. I'm sor-"

"No!" she cuts him off, "You don't have to-"

"Will you let me finish?" he interrupts, sounding exasperated. "You're about to get an apology from a lawyer. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so shut up and drink your tea."

Jess can feel her eyebrows raise, but she doesn't say anything. She looks pointedly at Nick as she takes another sip of her tea. He lets out a deep exhale and wipes his hands nervously on the fabric of his pants.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I've been stressed for the past week, but that's no excuse for me to be an ass." Nick looks down at his hands, his face all serious.

"It's okay. I know you're going through a lot," she says. He nods and lets out a sad little chuckle. She wants to press, to ask him what's so funny about the statement, but she doesn't. "And you're right. I was being immature."

He looks at her with a half-smile. "You were just trying to be nice."

"I was being nosey," she insists, because she was. "You clearly didn't want to talk about it."

"No, you were trying to be supportive. Even when I was being a real asshole to you."

He _was_ being a jerk. But at least he's self-aware enough to realize it and be genuinely sorry about his behavior. She appreciates it. It takes a lot of courage to admit you're wrong. So she shrugs and casually says, "It's no big deal."

"Just accept the damn apology, Jess."

She laughs. "I forgive you, Nick."

"Thank you."

Once he's gotten the apology off his chest, Nick seems more relaxed, actually sitting on the bed instead of hovering on the very edge. He smiles at her, a little lopsided but with a brightness in his dark eyes. She thinks this is his genuine smile. It's the same one he had when he spoke about his daughter on the night they first met. It makes her feel all warm and soft inside as she returns the gesture with a smile of her own.

Jess hesitates for a moment, and then casually nudges his ankle with her foot. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I won't keep trying to pry into your life." She nervously runs her finger around the lip of the mug. "But if you do want to talk about it, I'm just saying that I'm here for you, okay?"

Nick nods thoughtfully. "Okay."

"And I'm sorry for judging you. I wasn't trying to. I'm just worried about you, that's all. You're clearly taking the- whatever's going on pretty hard. And I see Abbi at school and she's been pretty upset about you not being home. So yeah."

Nick's face falls, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he turns his gaze away from her, choosing instead to focus intently on the scarf hanging on the back of her door, carefully avoiding her eyes. "I- I haven't heard from her since last Friday. Is she okay?"

Jess can feel her heart break for him. "She's been better. She misses you."

Nick swallows hard and nods.

"I don't know a lot about what's going on with your family," she says cautiously, pausing to gauge his reaction. "But my parents got divorced when I was about her age. And I remember feeling like sometimes they were too busy yelling at each other to notice me right in front of them."

Nick takes in a long breath with his eyes closed. He looks exhausted and miserable. Every one of her instincts is telling her to reach out and hug him, but she doesn't want to come on too strong when he's finally starting to open up to her. So instead she tightens her grip on the mug and pretends it's his hand that she's holding in between her own.

"This isn't what I want. But there's not much I can do about it, so..." he trails off with a shrug.

"Well," Jess hesitates. She doesn't have a lot to work with. She knows Nick isn't big on talking about feelings so she doesn't want to push him into sharing more than he's comfortable with, but seeing him so despondent like this, she wants to offer him some encouragement. "I think it's important for you to be there for Abbi. And no matter what else happens, you should be able to see her."

Nick nods solemnly. "I'm trying. But my wife won't even call me back."

"Did you tell her how you feel?"

He looks at her skeptically, "Jess..."

"No, really. It's important. Maybe she'll listen if you're willing to be open."

"It's not that simple."

"Maybe not," she admits with a shrug. "Or maybe it is. You can borrow my feelings stick. I always keep an extra travel-sized one." She switches her grip on the mug to her other hand and reaches down into her purse for it. She holds it out to him.

Nick looks pained, but he takes the feather-covered stick anyway. "Thanks, Jess."

She smiles at him, satisfied.

"Look, about what I said earlier-" He turns the stick over in his hands. "I didn't mean it."

"What?"

"The whole 'real adult' thing. That crossed a line. I'm sorry. Again."

Jess looks down at her tea, and absentmindedly rubs the side of the mug with her thumb. Maybe she does live in a sort of fantasy world, what with the roommates and the constant crafting. But that's who she is. She's always been this way, optimistic and just a touch flighty. It took her a long time to accept herself, to realize she couldn't keep trying to change who she is just so people would like her. And just because she's getting older doesn't mean she has to get rid of her cheeriness and relentless optimism. She thinks it's a myth that adults have everything figured out anyway. Hell, she's still trying to figure out what she's doing next week, let alone what her place is in the grand scheme of the universe.

"You're kinda right. I've been at Coolidge for over six years and my boss still hasn't recommended me for a promotion. I guess I keep waiting for him to recognize all this extra work I've been doing. I love my job, but no one seems to notice when I'm doing it well. People only seem to notice when I screw up."

Nick looks at her thoughtfully. "Have you thought about doing something else? Maybe you can find something you love just as much as teaching but will actually treat you with some respect."

She smiles and shakes her head. "I've wanted to teach my whole life. This is who I am; I'm a teacher. I don't want to be anything else."

"Okay," he says, rubbing at the corner of his jaw. "But what about _somewhere_ else?"

"I don't know..." She feels the fear of change within herself, but also the flicker of desire for it. She remembers staying with Spencer for six wasted years of her life, ignoring all the signs that she should have moved on long before he cheated on her. Cece is always telling her that even though change is scary, it's a necessary part of life. _Change is good_ , she reminds herself.

"I was looking at this private middle school for Abbi next year. The Willow School of Fine Arts. You should check it out. They promote creative expression for gifted and talented students. They've been growing quickly. They might be hiring."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay. Good." Nick nods. They sit there in silence for another few seconds. Then Nick tentatively reaches over and awkwardly rests his hand on her knee. He holds it for half a second before giving it a little pat and then standing up quickly. "Good talk, Jess," he says quickly, before practically running out the door.

Jess watches him go with a confused expression, still not entirely sure about what just happened.

* * *

In the morning she's making scrambled eggs when Nick comes in and wishes her a "Good morning," with a tired smile. He pours himself a cup of coffee and sits at the kitchen island.

Jess beams at him and asks, "How do you like your eggs?"

"Over easy. But you don't have to-"

She shrugs, "I've already got them out."

Nick sighs exasperatedly, but it's all just for show, because he's still smiling at her. "Thanks."

* * *

It gets a little better after that. Nick continues to rack up a staggering number of billable hours, but when he comes home from the office he spreads his work out on the dining room table instead of retreating into his room. He looks like he's about to drop dead from exhaustion at any minute, but he still manages to give Jess a quirk of a smile and ask how her day went, making the effort to get to know her. She still worries about him because things with his family don't seem to be getting any better. Nick looks a little more distraught with every passing day. And as much as it frustrates her, she knows there's nothing she can do about it. She can only watch and wait and try to bring a little sunshine into this difficult time in his life.


	8. She just left

Nick's sitting in his office, unsuccessfully trying to focus on his work. His eyes keep skimming over the words on his legal briefs without actually reading them, and no matter how much coffee he drinks he can't seem to keep his vision from blurring. He's exhausted. He got maybe an hour of sleep last night, and even less the night before. It's been over two weeks since he left. Two weeks of having his nerves so fried that it feels like his skin is too tight on his body. Two weeks of lying in bed with his fingers clenched tight around his phone, so that he can answer it the instant Caroline decides to call him. Two weeks of not being able to think straight, his thoughts incoherent jumbles of half-formed ideas and phrases. It's a wonder he's been able to get anything done.

It's Monday, and he's been in the office for about four hours. Any moment now, the sheer weight of his exhaustion will take over and he'll end up falling asleep at his desk for twenty restless minutes before jolting awake just in time for his conference call at 11. He's struggling to keep his eyelids open as he rereads a deposition for the sixth time when his phone rings. He automatically picks up the handset without looking up from his document. "This is Miller."

"Good morning, Mr. Miller." Teresa's voice is smooth and pleasant on the other end of the line. "Your wife just stopped by with a package for you."

The phrase sets off an alarm ringing in his ears and he's suddenly wide awake. He drops the headset and jumps out of his chair. His heart pounds as he crosses the small room and flings the door open to speak to his assistant. "She was _here_? When?"

"A minute ago. She just left," Teresa says, bewildered. Nick frantically scans the office for his wife. His assistant looks at him with one eyebrow raised in concern and asks, "Is everything okay, Mr. Miller?"

He doesn't answer her. He hasn't heard anything except the words 'your wife' and 'just left.' She was here. She was _here_. He was hidden away in his office so far gone in his own misery that he hadn't heard her come in. His heart drops into his stomach as he realizes that he has just missed his one and only chance to see her. So he doesn't think, he just dashes towards the exit, ignoring the confused looks of the younger associates. Nick breaks into a run once he's outside the building, surveying the parking lot for the familiar blonde hair and silver minivan of his recently-estranged wife. He spots her walking towards her car, slowing to a stop as she digs through her purse to find her keys.

"Caroline!" he yells, and she spins to look at him, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Nick," she says in surprise, like she didn't expect to see him when she showed up to his goddamn law office.

He runs over to her and stops a few feet away from her, his heart pounding and short of breath. "What the fuck, Caroline?"

She purses her lips, and looks down at her car keys.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You have nothing to fucking say to me?" he fumes, channeling all the anger he's been trying to hold back for the past two weeks. "I've been calling you nonstop for weeks. You kick me out of our fucking home and you won't let me see my own fucking daughter? And then out of fucking nowhere you show up at my fucking work to drop off a package and then try to sneak away like I'm just some fucking stranger to you?"

Caroline takes a deep breath, "You're overreac-"

"No," he cuts her off. "Don't you fucking start. Don't try to blame this on me."

"Do you think I wanted this?" she shouts back at him. "Do you think I'm happy that my own daughter is fucking miserable? Do you think this is easy for me?"

"Then why are you doing this? How is this the fucking answer?"

He's been asking himself that over and over. He knows what he did wrong; he's been working too much, making her feel like she's carrying all the weight of their life at home on her own. That's something he can fix. He can cut down on his hours and spend more time at home, be the better family man she wants him to be. At least that's what she tells him she wants. But she won't listen to him or let him come home to be with her or even let him see his own daughter. It doesn't make sense. If she wants him to be more involved in their lives then why is she trying so hard to freeze him out?

Caroline's crying now. He watches as the tears roll down her cheeks and it's just like when they were arguing in the kitchen. It's like nothing's changed. They can't be together and they can't be apart either. It's the worst sort of compromise, both of them stuck in this life, in this marriage, neither of them really getting what they want. Neither of them even knowing what that is anymore.

"Nick, I-" her voice is quiet. She lets out a sob and stares down at her shoes. "I can't keep pretending like things are okay. I can't keep pretending to be your perfect wife. I can't keep wondering if you actually mean it when you tell me you love me."

It's a slap in the face. His chest hurts and he can't breathe because the fact that he loves her is the center of his entire universe, has been for the past 15 years. _He loves her._ They might be fighting, but that doesn't change how he feels about her, how he's always felt about her. Why can't she see that? How can she have even the slightest doubt about something he knows with every fiber of his being? He's running it over and over in his mind and it just doesn't make sense. "How can you say that? Of course I love you; you're my wife."

"I might be your wife, but I haven't felt like it in a long time." Caroline looks at him, her eyes tired and sad. Every part of him wants to hug her close, to run his fingers through her hair and kiss her the way he always has, to hold her the way a husband holds his wife. She'll know how much he loves her then when he touches her, that their love for each other will allow them to survive this. They can survive this, but only if she can still put her trust in him the way she used to. But when he reaches out for her she just steps away from him and he can feel his heart stutter in his chest. "I... I don't know if I love you anymore."

An icy chill runs down his spine. _This isn't happening._ He can't breathe, and everything else is fading away and _this can't be happening._ _It- it just can't_. "Don't say that to me, Caroline. I know you're angry at me, but don't say that just because you want to hurt me. That's not something you can take back."

"I'm not," she says, and the words rip away whatever shred of hope he was still clinging to. "I'm trying to be honest."

"Caroline, we're married. We vowed to be there for each other, for better or for worse. That doesn't mean anything to you?"

Did she expect their married life to be perfect forever? That they would never stumble along the way to happily ever after? That idea of perfection is just that, a fantasy. After a while all the magic fades. And then all that's left is a marriage. A real marriage where, every single day, you have to choose to stay beside that person you married. You don't just get to quit when it's hard. He knows other people get divorced, but he never imagined they would be one of them. He thought they cared about each other. He thought they would always fight for one another, no matter what barriers came between them. But right now she's just giving up on them, and won't even let him try to convince her otherwise. He never thought he would have to convince his own wife to believe in this life they've built together, and yet here they are.

"Caroline, honey," he pleads, his eyes beg her to listen to reason. "Please, just listen to me-"

"Don't do this, Nick," she cuts him off with a shake of her head. Caroline blinks away a few tears and nervously runs a hand through her hair. "I need a break. From this," she gestures between the two of them.

It's not what he wants. It's worse than when he first left. This feels final. There's nothing he can do to fix it. _But there has to be_ , he thinks, because he's not giving up on her. He's not. He _loves_ her. Even if she doesn't realize it anymore. There has to be some way he can convince her. There has to be something he can do, something he can say. He doesn't know what that is quite yet, but he's going to figure it out. Because he loves her. And he knows that she loves him. She just doesn't realize it. "Please. Caroline, please. I can't-"

Caroline bites her lip and shifts her grip on her car keys. "Goodbye, Nick."

Nick watches as she gets into her car and drives away. This can't be happening. It can't be. He walks back into the office in a trance. This has to be a nightmare. He must have fallen asleep at his desk and any minute his phone is going to ring and it'll be Caroline telling him she loves him and she wants him to come home.

Teresa stops him the moment he steps into the lobby and pulls him aside. "You're taking a sick day."

He stares at her, confused. "But I'm not-"

"Mr. Miller. You're taking a sick day," she repeats insistently, leaving no room for argument.

She hands him his briefcase and keys, and he takes them with trembling hands. Once she's sure of his grip she picks up a large box and walks off towards the front door, gesturing for him to follow her. Teresa doesn't say anything as she strides purposefully through the parking lot, she doesn't ask if he's okay or make some remark about the dazed look on his face. He's grateful for it.

She's been the other primary woman in his life, been there beside him through pretty much everything since he first came through the doors of this law firm, back when he was just a no-name associate fresh out of law school and she was working part-time at the reception desk. She was the one who promised to cover for him and pushed him out the door when Caroline went into labor. She was the reason he was able to make it to the hospital in time to see his daughter being brought into the world. She stuck by his side as he climbed his way up the company ladder. When he got promoted he took her with him because he knew there was no one else he would trust with his professional life.

Distantly, he realizes he barely knows anything about her. He recalls a brief mention of a husband and a nephew whose name starts with a 'T' (he thinks). He feels like an ass, because he's never made enough of an effort to get to know her, and yet here she is doing him this kindness. He makes a mental note to send her flowers and a personalized card, the way she always does for him whenever he forgets people's birthdays.

They get to his car and he unlocks it out of habit. Teresa opens the side door and sets the box in the passenger's seat. The door slams shut with a dull thud and she looks at him from where he's still standing by the trunk.

"Don't come in until you're feeling better," Teresa asserts with a stern look, and he nods. She gives him a sad smile and says, "Take care of yourself, Nick," before walking back towards the building.

He gets in his car and opens the box. There are the rest of his clothes, his shaving kit, the picture of Abbi he keeps on his desk at home, and a few other miscellaneous things: the remnants of his shattered family. He pulls out a note that's written in Caroline's curling script.

 _I'm sorry._


	9. Sundvik

Jess leaves Coolidge Elementary feeling starved and stressed. The other teachers seem to have picked up on the fact that she's vying for the Vice Principal position and have been taking advantage of her eagerness in order to shirk all of their actual responsibilities, which means that she's taking on even more odds and ends work and still getting none of the credit. She spent all of her lunch break agonizing over the details of the school budget report Dr. Foster delegated to her, even though it's _his_ job to complete it. And then he didn't even have the decency to acknowledge her work at all. He just slapped his name on the cover and submitted it to the school board.

So far today she's eaten: 1 scrambled egg, 3 Ritz crackers, and half a cup of coffee.

She's dying for a real meal. Vaguely she thinks it's a little sad that the thing she's been looking forward to most all day has been making dinner, instead of coming home to somebody to share it with. But she pushes the thought away. Jessica Day doesn't need no man. She's figuring herself out, focusing on her career while she gets over Spencer. And even though Spencer was a rat-faced cheating bastard, at least he taught her it's better to be alone than to be with someone who treats her like that. She's not lonely, no matter what Cece seems to think.

The loft is empty when she finally gets home, and she makes a beeline to the kitchen, only to remember she's been too busy to go grocery shopping over the past week. Her stomach grumbles at her as she roots around in the fridge, and she gives up and decides Chinese takeout is calling her name. She digs out the well-worn takeout menu for Hop Foo from the clutter of their junk drawer.

She's walking to her room to check how much cash she has when she hears the faint sound of music coming from across the hall. She pauses and listens to the muffled chorus of "Hungry Eyes" that seems to be coming from Nick's room. _Nick's home?_ She checks her watch, because maybe she accidentally stayed at school later than she thought. But no, it's fifteen minutes 'til 5. Nick's never home this early; she wonders if everything's alright.

Her stomach lets out a concerningly loud groan, insistently reminding Jess about her plan for the evening: beef and broccoli alongside some cheesy '90s romcom on Netflix. Her thoughts drift to Nick, and she wonders about the last time he ate. They've been growing closer lately, despite Nick's despondent mood over his continuing lack of contact his wife and daughter. Or at least that's what she thinks is going on, since he's still so guarded about sharing the details of his personal life. But they're otherwise getting along, and she'd even go so far as to call him her room-friend. And after the crazy day she's had, Jess would love to have dinner where she could chat with someone other than herself.

She knocks on his door, unsure if he can hear her over the music. After a few seconds with no response, Jess opens the door and pokes her head into the room. "Hey Nick, I'm gonna order Chinese, did you want anything?"

Nick's sitting on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands. There's a large cardboard box at his feet, filled with what look like clothes and a few odds and ends. At quick glance Jess can see a framed photo of Nick with Caroline and Abbi, their smiling faces frozen in a snapshot of a happier time.

His head snaps up to look at her, and _oh._ He's crying. His face is all red, and there are tears running down his cheeks and his eyes are all puffy. She's looking at the broken, devastated shape of the man before her and she realizes very quickly that this is an intensely private moment she has intruded in on. This isn't something she should be seeing. Nick stares at her for a few long seconds before his mind registers that she's standing there, and that she just walked in on him _crying_. A look of sheer and utter horror and embarrassment crosses his face.

They freeze there for a moment, just looking at each other in shock. It takes both of them a minute to react because neither of them was expecting this to happen. It's worse than it would have been if she had walked in on him naked. Jess breaks the spell first. Her hands flail for the doorknob behind her in panic and she squeaks out, "Sorry!" before slamming the door shut.

Jess sprints the six feet from his door into her room and frantically closes the door behind her, as if the second barrier will make it like the encounter never happened. She flattens herself up against the door, willing the image of Nick's face filled with deep anguish to disappear from her brain. But every time she tries to think of something else her mind drifts back to seeing Nick, normally so stoic and closed-off, expressing a deeply felt emotion of grief and sorrow.

This has to be about his family. There's no other explanation. Something must have happened, some sort of catalyst that would make him break him down. Something so bad that he had to come home from work, where he practically lives, to process it. She thinks about the battered cardboard box at his feet, trying to make some kind of connection that might give her some idea of what's going on, but she's still reeling in shock and can't seem to fit the pieces together.

There's the sound of the front door slamming, and then Schmidt's voice yelling, "Anyone home?"

Jess darts out of her room. Schmidt's already rummaging through the pantry, and she comes up to the island and says all in one breath, "IwalkedinonNickcrying."

Schmidt turns slightly to look at her from over his shoulder. "What was that?"

She bites her lip and repeats herself in a nervously hushed voice, "I walked in on Nick crying."

Schmidt recoils, his hand coming up to his chest as he whisper-shouts, "Jessica Day!"

"It was an accident!" she whispers back, trying to keep her voice down despite the rising panic in her chest.

"Well?" He looks expectantly at her. "What did you do?"

"What do you think? I ran away!"

"Nick is incredibly delicate right now," Schmidt whispers frantically. "This could make or break him, Jess."

"I know that! And now he's going to crawl right on back into his turtle shell of depression. He's never going to speak to me again," Jess groans, clenching her fists and shaking them at the ceiling in frustration. "We were doing so well!"

"Listen to me," Schmidt reaches out to grab her shoulders and stares seriously into her eyes. "You need to ignore every single instinct you have and forget that this ever happened."

"But-"

"No buts!" he cuts her off with a small shake. "Nick isn't like you when it comes to this stuff. The last thing he wants to do is acknowledge his feelings, especially to someone else. You've got to give him space to process things on his own."

Jess lets out a long sigh, blowing the breath up to ruffle her bangs. As much as she hates to admit it, Schmidt's probably right. He's the one who's lived with Nick for four years. But she's good at this kind of stuff, well, she normally is. She's always found it easy to express herself. One of the biggest parts of her job is helping kids to understand their feelings and communicate them in a productive way. But there seems to be something about Nick that throws her off her game, something that makes her second-guess herself. Something she can't quite put her finger on, no matter how hard she tries.

Schmidt looks at her with an expectantly raised eyebrow. "Fine," she huffs.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Jess. That's just how Nick is." He releases her, seemingly satisfied.

"Are you guys talking about me or something?"

Jess whips around so fast she nearly falls over. Nick is standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. He looks a bit surly and unsure; his eyes are still a little red around the corners. Jess glances over to Schmidt in panic, but the coward just says, "All good things, my man," and pats Nick on the shoulder before slinking off down the hallway. Once he's behind Nick's back he spins around to mime something along the lines of " _You better keep your mouth shut, Jessica, or I swear to god I cannot be held accountable for my actions."_ Jess just rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at him. Schmidt returns the gesture.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Nick asks, looking back over his shoulder, but Schmidt's already ducked into the bathroom.

"Nothing," she says quickly, nervously rocking back and forth on her heels. Nick looks at her with his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Look, Nick. About earlier-"

His face sours. "The door was shut, Jess. There are rules about this kind of thing. You're supposed to knock before barging into someone's private space."

"Well, I did knock, but you didn't answer so-"

"That doesn't mean you get to just let yourself in!" he cuts her off tensely.

She reels back at his raised voice. "I'm sorry, Nick."

Nick takes a breath and scrubs his hand over his face. "Just knock next time," he says quietly, his voice sad and tired.

"I'm sorry. You seemed pretty upset-"

"What? No. That's just, you know, allergies," he fumbles over his words, "It was out of context."

Every single part of her wants to push him, to keep pestering him until he finally gets whatever is going on off of his chest. It's clearly _something_ that's wrong. No matter how many times he tries to brush this off, there's no way what she saw was 'just allergies.' But Schmidt's advice is still tucked away in the back of her mind and Nick looks like he's in physical pain just _thinking_ about discussing his feelings so she reluctantly decides to let it slide for now.

They stand there for an awkward pause. Jess nervously picks at her chipping pink nail polish, and Nick stares down at the laces of his brown dress shoes with a frown. "Did you ever look at that dresser?" he says cryptically. She waits for him to elaborate, but he just looks at her expectantly.

"What?" _Dresser? When did she mention a dresser?_

"The other day. You said there was a dresser you wanted to look at."

Jess racks her brain, but comes up empty. She's perfectly content with her current dresser. There's one at the antique store she's been eyeing for awhile, but it needs another coat of resin to be perfect so she's waiting until Gladys finally caves and lowers the price. But she's keeping that under wraps in the wake of the Pine Hutch Incident a few months back.

Nick looks up at the ceiling and runs a hand through his messy hair. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in one big _whoosh_ before looking at her with a grimace. "I'm going to Ikea. Do you want to come with me?" he asks, his voice tense.

It catches Jess completely off guard. Maybe Nick _does_ want to talk about the whole crying incident? Is this his way of trying to spend time with her in order to open up about his true feelings? Or is she reading too much into this? It's a coin flip.

"Sure!" she says excitedly, before catching herself. "I mean, yeah, that sounds cool, pretty chill. I have been meaning to get a new dresser so if you're going, I might as well. Save on gas money, you know?" she says nonchalantly, trying to hide her over-enthusiasm. By the look on Nick's face, he doesn't seem to be buying it, but he doesn't question her.

Her stomach grumbles embarrassingly loudly. "We can grab something to eat on the way there," Nick offers.

"Okay, just let me grab my purse."

He follows her back to her room, and leans against the doorframe as she switches her wallet and keys from her teacher bag to her shopping tote. She smiles at him when she's ready, and he gestures for her to lead the way out the loft. The silence between them has now settled into 'slightly awkward' as they stand in the elevator. It's the usual state of being between them, a state of neutrality of two almost not-strangers, something Jess has come to tolerate but never gotten used to. Jess scrolls through her Instagram feed to distract herself from the way Nick's nervously bouncing his foot on the linoleum floor of the elevator. The hard soles of her shoes click on the pavement of the parking deck as she follows him to his car. Nick holds the passenger's side door of his car open for her as she climbs in, and then they're off.

They end up at McDonald's, the nicer one across town that just got renovated. Nick looks at the plastic Play Place outside the building with a complicated look of regret and sadness, clenching his jaw as his eyes start to get misty. Jess politely pretends not to notice as she opens the door and ushers him inside. He insists on paying for her cheeseburger and asks if she wants to get two small fries or just share one big one. They sit on opposite sides of a plastic booth in the back corner of the building, the silence between them getting more and more tense with each passing moment.

Jess folds up a used napkin, trying to remain casual as she asks, "Are you sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

Nick glowers at his half-eaten dinner, nervously twisting his wedding ring around on his finger. "Jess, let's just forget the whole thing ever happened."

"I know," she sighs, "But I feel like it's kinda important that we discuss it, at least a little. It's not good for you to keep everything bottled up all the time."

Nick's frown deepens, his eyebrows scrunching together and his nose crinkling.

She lowers her voice to a whisper, "I think it's really great that you listen to '80s pop music while you cry. That's really cool. You should explore your emotions."

"Nope. Not doing this." He shakes his head and slides out of the booth. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Jess groans as he walks off, "Nick, c'mon. We have to talk about this!"

"Absolutely not!" he replies without looking at her, before escaping into the men's room.

When he gets back to the table he pointedly avoids making eye contact with her and asks about how her day at school was, deflecting any attempt she tries to make to ask him about his own life. She's pleasantly surprised by how much he remembers from the brief conversations they've managed to have before he heads in to work or she turns in for the night. Nick nods along politely as she talks about her plans for the de-math-alon, her students' progress on their science fair projects, and her latest theory of which of the other teachers are secretly in love. He smiles at her jokes, but his tired grin is even more strained than usual.

They leave for Ikea and immediately run into the worst of rush hour traffic. Nick curses periodically under his breath as people try to cut in and around him, impatiently tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel. He stares out the windshield blankly at the white Sedan in front of them. His face twists up every few minutes, and he chews on his lip nervously like he's trying to avoid crying again.

Jess knows that she's supposed to let this go. But he looks miserable. He's looked miserable for the past two weeks, but now it's even worse. Even if she hadn't walked in on him crying, she would've noticed how the light has faded out of his eyes, like he's given up on whatever hope he had left. She doesn't know exactly what has happened, but it's safe to assume things with his wife and daughter aren't getting any better.

He's clearly upset, and her heart hurts just looking at him. Jess wants to do whatever she can do to help, even if that's just listening to him and offering him a shoulder to lean on. She wants him to know she's here for him. She's not going anywhere. No matter how much he tries to push her away. He's her friend. That's what friends do: they take care of each other.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Hmm?"

"Look, I know you said you didn't want to share but-"

Nick cuts her off with a sigh, his eyes falling shut for a moment before he looks over at her with a look of mild annoyance. "I don't need to talk about it, okay? I'm fine. You're just here because I need someone to help me push the cart and Schmidt gets a little insane when it comes to home decor."

"Fine," she huffs. "But just so you know, you're not all alone in this, okay? I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready. And don't think I'll let you forget about it."

Nick ducks his head and smiles wearily. "I'm sure you won't."

* * *

They walk into the building and there's a brief look of panic in Nick's eyes that quickly morphs into determination. Jess grabs a trolley cart and trails after him. Nick meanders through the bedroom showrooms, periodically tossing items into the cart and making notes of what he wants to pick up in the warehouse. He gets a new bedspread that appears to double as a sleeping bag, a tall wooden shelving unit, a folding desk with a matching chair, and a green lamp. With every item he checks off his list he deflates slightly, his eyes distant and jaw clenched tight.

She nearly runs into him with the cart when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the aisle. They've turned the corner into the children's department. Nick's staring blankly at the showroom for a little girl's room, where just about everything is some shade of vibrant pink with the exception of a gauzy white canopy hanging over the bed. Nick bites down hard on his lip, but despite his best effort a tear manages to slip down his cheeks. Jess can feel her her stomach flip at the way he ducks his head to try to hide the fact that he's crying.

"Nick?"

He steps into the room, looking around at the faux crayon drawings taped up to the wall above the desk, the little bookshelf in the corner of the room, and the stuffed teddy bear resting on the pillows at the head of the bed. "Abbi would like this," Nick says softly. "She left her pink phase behind a couple years ago, but she'd still like it."

Nick slowly lowers himself down onto the edge of the bed, and Jess ditches their cart in the aisle to join him. Her knee knocks against his as she sits down, and she presses the side of her leg up against his. She swings her feet back and forth, the toes of her ballet flats brushing against the edge of the flower-covered rug. They sit there for a moment, and she's sure they look pretty odd, two grown adults sitting on the too-small furniture of a children's showroom. She doesn't care.

"Caroline wanted to put one of these in Abbi's room," Nick says wistfully, fingering the butterfly-patterned lace of the canopy. "They're super unsafe though. Strangulation hazard."

"Well, they're still really pretty."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah. That's what Caroline always said."

Jess smiles and shrugs. Nick glances across the aisle at another showroom, the walls a warm shade of red contrasting with the white crib, rocking chair, and changing table. A look of longing falls over his face, and the smile he had just a moment ago vanishes.

"That's like the one we got when Abbi was born," he says, pointing to the crib. "It must have taken me a hundred tries to put it together. I kept getting excited and skipping over steps."

Nick sighs and shifts his weight on the bed, leaning back on his hands. "That was when things started to feel real. I had always been this huge screwup, but being able to do that for my daughter, that's what made it real. I felt so nervous and ridiculously unprepared. I thought there was no way I could be a good dad. My father- he wasn't the best. But when I saw Abbi on the ultrasound that first time, everything just clicked.

"I didn't want to mess it up. So I did everything I could: I read all the baby books I could get my hands on. I dragged Caroline to all those new parenting classes. Nearly drove her crazy. She always thought that we just had to live it, that we'd figure it out as we went along. Maybe she was right, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. I worked so hard. I did everything I could to be better than this. But you can't outrun your history, I guess. And now here I am, right in the place I said I would never end up, walking in my dad's footsteps."

Before she can think any better of it, she reaches out and grabs his hand. Nick looks up at her with a surprised look on his face, and she smiles reassuringly at him as she gives his hand a soft squeeze. His expression shifts, and for a moment she can see the pain and sadness that he's been trying so hard to cover up. She rubs her thumb over the ridge of his knuckle and softly says, "It's going to be alright, Nick. You're going to get your family back."

He doesn't look entirely convinced, but she doesn't expect him to be. When you're caught up in the thick of it, it can be hard to stay optimistic in the face of a harsh reality. But that's what she's here for. She's here to hold his hand and help him find the inner strength he needs in order to survive this. He might feel helpless now, but he's stronger than he thinks he is, and he's willing to put in the effort to make things right. Nick's a good guy, and it's obvious he cares deeply for his family. Things are going to work out, she's sure of it.

"You okay, buddy?"

He nods, a fraction of smile on his lips, "Yeah, I'm gonna be okay, _buddy_."

She gives his hand one last squeeze before letting go so she can dig around in her purse to find her pack of tissues. "For your _allergies_ ," she says as she hands them over with a pointed look. She doesn't want him to feel embarrassed by pouring his emotions out in the middle of the store, but he also needs to know she's not going to let this go, no matter how hard he tries to squirm away from it.

"Thanks," he murmurs as he takes the tissue from her hand.

Jess has a feeling he's not talking about the tissues. "Anytime. I mean it."

"I will," he says solemnly.

* * *

The car ride back to the loft is easier. Jess commandeers the radio and skips around from station to station to find the songs she knows the words to. Nick teases her about it, but his mood seems to have improved, and he even manages to join in with his own slightly off-key chorus of his own every now and then. He lights up when "Cotton-Eyed Joe" comes on the radio.

"Oh, man," he says, turning up the volume. "Get ready. This is the best song ever."

Jess giggles, looking at him for a sign of his trademark sarcasm, but he's being completely serious. He's even fist pumping. It's ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. She's laughing uncontrollably, clutching her stomach as Nick passionately belts out the lyrics. They pull up to a stop at the next stoplight, and Jess cracks up again at the face the woman in the car next to them makes as Nick mimes a fiddle solo.

After the song finishes, Nick's still smiling, and Jess really thinks things are going to work out for him. She's going to make sure of it.


	10. Breakfast platter, scrambled, with bacon

"Oh c'mon, why can't I come with you guys?" Jess whines.

They're all crammed together in the bathroom, and she watches as Schmidt and Winston fight each other for space near the mirror as they get ready to hit the town. Some friend of a friend of a friend told Schmidt about a club where it was rumored that Kanye would supposedly be making a secret appearance, which had sent Schmidt into a full-blown frenzy.

Schmidt turns to look at her, his fingers sticky with pomade. "Jessica, how many times do I have to tell you this? Befriending Kanye is the most efficient way for me to jump social strata. All I have to do is meet and bedazzle him, and I can't have you coming along dragging me down."

"Then how come Winston gets to go?"

"I need him to prove I can be friends with black people," Schmidt explains.

Winston rolls his eyes and punches Schmidt hard in the arm. "Not cool."

Schmidt grabs his injured bicep with an affronted scoff, his face reddening. "Do you want to go to the club or not!"

"Dude," Winston says with a straight face, pointing down to Schmidt's waist with his hairbrush. "We're not even going to get in if you have that thing on."

"It's after Labor Day! I'm wearing the whales."

"You look ridiculous," Jess chimes in as Winston laughs. "You look like the villain in an '80s high school movie."

"Insulting the belt isn't going to convince me to let you come along," Schmidt says defensively as he turns back to the mirror to fuss with his hair.

"Schmidt, please? You can't just leave me alone in the loft. You know how I get when I'm all by myself."

It gets weird. Fast. She's not suited to being alone. She's like a little puppy. If she's left alone for too long she gets all nervous and bored and ends up making a huge mess. Cece's busy with her model friends tonight; the guys are all she has left. There's only so long that she can stare at her students' essays on a Saturday night before she starts to go stir-crazy.

"Nick will be home any minute," Winston says sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder on his way out the bathroom door. "You'll be fine."

* * *

The guys leave before Nick gets home, despite Jess' complaints.

She tries her best to kill time until he gets home. She tries on everything in her closet twice. She watches the first fifteen minutes of all her favorite movies. She starts four different knitting projects. But time continues to drag on. A few minutes turns into half an hour turns into a full hour turns into three hours and now Jess is starting to get worried. It's almost 2am and Nick still isn't home and the guys are still out at some bar.

There's a creaking noise in the walls and Jess swears she can see some sort of shadowy figure out of the corner of her eye. But every time she turns to see what it is, it disappears. She tries calling Schmidt a hundred times, but he doesn't seem to actually care about her life because he keeps sending her calls straight to voicemail.

"Hey, Schmidt, it's Jess," she whispers into her phone, clutching the corner of the quilt she's used to create a panic fort. "Nick's not back and I'm all alone, when are you getting back? Also, do you know of anyone who died mysteriously in the loft? I think it's haunted. Please call me back, and if I don't answer it's because a poltergeist has swallowed me up in which case you should come home immediately. Or save yourselves and burn down the building. Goodbye. _Possibly forever_."

She ends the call and the phone immediately rings in her hand. Jess shrieks and immediately hits _Accept Call_ without checking the caller ID. "Thank God! Schmidt, where are you?"

"Is this Jess?" a gruff voice on the other end says and Jess' heart starts to pound again. _Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no. Has she learned nothing from every horror movie ever?_ She looks around the living room in wide-eyed paranoia. _The call has to be coming from inside the house!_

"Yes," she squeaks out. "Who's this?"

"This is Bob. I'm a bartender at The Griffin in Atwater Village. I've got your buddy here and he needs someone to come pick him up. You're the first person to actually answer their phone."

Things click into place and Jess lets out a shaky breath. Of course the loft isn't haunted. That wouldn't make sense. Why does she always jump to the worst-case scenarios? "Okay, no problem. Who is it? Schmidt? Winston? Loud frat guy or eccentric black guy? Both?"

"Here, I'll put you on," Bob says, and there's the muffled sound of the phone being passed over.

"Whozat?" the guy on the phone slurs, his deep voice familiar.

"Wait, Nick? Is that you?"

"Jess!" he cheers. "Ya gotta come 'n get me. This guy- _what's your name?_ Bob. Bob says I gotta stop an' he said I gotta have someone get me. I think I drank my car but that dos'n sound right. Also, drinkin' is fun, Jess. _*Hic*_ Have we ever been drinkin' together? We gotta do that sometime-"

"Nick-" she cuts off his drunken rambling as she crawls out of her pillow fort and grabs a hoodie off the back of the couch. Jess wedges the phone up against her ear with her shoulder as she pulls the hoodie on over her pajama top. "I'm leaving the loft now, okay? Stay where you are. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

"Oh-kay," he says, dragging out the vowels.

* * *

The place is easy enough to find, and Jess walks into the empty bar and spots Nick right away. She comes up to where he's leaning heavily against the bar, digging a straw around in a glass of ice. "Nick? I got your phone call."

Nick almost falls off his stool when he turns to face her, a huge grin on his face. "Jess-" he burps, "-ica! Dirty J! Doctor Day! My toilet sister!"

"Um, that's me, I guess. Are you ready to go home?"

Nick lets out an over-dramatic groan, "I can't go home, Jess. I told you already. Caroline kicked me out. An' now Abbi's all sad. I _told_ you." He slumps back over the bar, pressing his forehead against a coaster.

"C'mon, Nick. The bar's closed. We're going back to the loft."

He frowns petulantly, his arms crossed over his chest. Arguing with him when he's this drunk isn't going to get her anywhere. It's best to just play along until Nick either sobers up or she can convince Drunk Nick that it's his idea to go home so he can collapse in his own bed instead of sleeping at the bar.

"Where do you want to go?"

"If so," he mumbles into the counter. "Food?"

"You want to get food?" she asks. Nick sits up and gives her a double thumbs up. Jess sighs and checks her phone for the time. "Everywhere's closed."

He spins away from her and yells down the bar, "Hey Big Bob! Another round!"

"Alright!" she throws her arms up in the air in defeat. "Fine."

Nick grins victoriously and slaps a twenty on the bar before he hops off the barstool. He trips over his own feet in the middle of the room, but looks incredibly pleased with himself when he manages to catch himself before he falls flat on his face. He stumbles again on the curb, so Jess grabs onto his shoulder to help steady him as she leads him to her car.

"Ugh, you're the best, Jess," he groans into her shoulder. "Izzat my hoodie? Looks good on ya."

Jess glances down. She can't remember the last time she saw Nick in anything besides a suit, but the maroon hoodie she's wearing over her pajamas doesn't look like something either Winston or Schmidt would wear. It's comfy. The fabric is soft and it's loose enough on her that she can tuck her hands all the way into the sleeves. "I guess it is. You're not going to puke in my car, right?"

Nick nods at her, his face screwed up in a smirk of drunken confidence, "Vomit free since '93, baby." It doesn't do anything to convince Jess, but then again there's not a lot of options on the table. So she helps him into the passenger's seat of her car, and makes him hold a plastic grocery bag in his lap, just in case. She drives around aimlessly for a while, looking for someplace that's still open this late, and hoping that after a few minutes Nick will get distracted on this late-night adventure or pass out in the front seat so she can drive them home.

"Thanks for getting me, Jess," he says, still drunk, but slightly less so.

"Of course."

He leans his forehead against the window, "The bartender tried to call Caroline, but I said he couldn't. That's why I gave him my phone, because I keep calling her when I'm drunk but she doesn't answer me. And then she just drops off my stuff at work and says we need a break? What's up with that?" Nick shrugs. Jess opens her mouth to ask him about what's going on, but he suddenly perks up and points to a storefront with its lights on and a flashing sign that says _Open 24 Hours!_ "There!"

Jess sighs and puts on her blinker, even though she's the only car on the road, and parks in the empty lot beside the diner.

Their waitress is a young woman who hops up from her seat behind the register when they walk through the door. She doesn't remark on Jess' pajamas or the way Nick is still swaying on his feet. "Booth or table?" she asks perkily, seemingly far too excited to be working the graveyard shift at an empty restaurant.

"Booth," Nick decides, and the waitress smiles and ushers them to their seat.

Mary Anne brings them both waters and a coffee for Nick, and then leaves them to figure out their orders. She ducks back behind the register and pulls out what looks like a textbook, and Jess wonders if she's a student at one of the local colleges. Jess turns her attention back to the menu, wondering if she's supposed to order dinner or breakfast and if the rules of brunch are applicable to this scenario.

Nick orders the breakfast special, which sounds greasy enough to soak up whatever alcohol is still in his stomach. She hopes it doesn't end up on the floor of her car but at least Nick looks drunk and happy for now. She follows his lead and gets pancakes with strawberries, even though all that sugar is going to keep her awake for another few hours. The waitress walks off to put in their orders to the kitchen, leaving them alone under the fluorescent lights of the dining area.

A large truck passes by the window, and Nick's eyes follow it until it disappears from their view. He sighs and sets his elbow on the table, resting his weight on the palm of his hand. Nick turns his gaze back to her, his eyes tired and a lopsided smile on his face. "Hey, Day," he says softly, like it's a normal weekday morning and she just walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

Jess wants to be mad at him. She wants to be be annoyed that he dragged her halfway across town because he decided to get so shitfaced he couldn't get himself home. She's not his babysitter. She shouldn't have to give up her only free night in weeks so she can escort her drunk friend on his quest for breakfast food at 3 a.m.

But she likes taking care of people. She cares about her friends. She cares about everyone, no matter who they are. She can't help it; she gets attached to everyone within five minutes of meeting them. Jess doesn't mind being the designated driver or texting people to make sure they got home safely. When it comes down to it, she'd much rather pick someone up from the club than the the hospital. She's the 'mom' of all her friend groups. She's always been the responsible one, ever since she was a kid. Maybe that makes her a pushover, but that's just who she is, and she thinks the world would be a much nicer place if more people would look out for each other.

Nick is still leagues away from being sober, but at least he's past the Annoying Frat Boy phase of drunkenness. He's the quiet and contemplative kind of drunk now that he's coming down off that high. It's like his outer shell has peeled away. He's no longer wearing the fake smile he plasters on to convince people that everything is fine and he's still living the American Dream. She looks across the table at him, and feels like she's seeing the real him for once, like the glimpse into his life that she got at Ikea a few weeks ago. He's just Nick now, the tired, soft-spoken guy who works too hard and wants what's best for his family. The guy who's trying his best, even though he's convinced himself that he'll never be good enough.

She smiles back at him. "Hey, Miller."

Mary Anne comes around with their food a moment later and Nick contemplates Jess' stack of pancakes with a disheartened look in his eyes.

"Do you know what day it is?" he asks her around a bite of potatoes.

Jess pours syrup on the side of her plate, "I think it's technically Sunday morning."

"No." Nick frowns and pokes at his eggs. "It's Abbi's birthday."

She freezes and looks up at him in shock. "Oh."

"Yeah." Nick shrugs, and gestures to Jess' plate. "I would always make her birthday pancakes. They weren't anything special, I just followed the directions on the side of the box, but Abbi always liked them. We had a special plate too, with a butterfly pattern and her name on it. She would get all excited and plan weeks in advance, trying to decide what flavor she wanted. It's one of the few days of the year I always take off work so we can spend the day together, just me and her."

Nick looks down at his plate, his eyes watery. Jess grabs a napkin from the dispenser and hands it to him, and he gives her a small smile in thanks.

"I just wish I was there. I miss out on so much because of work, but I always tried to make it special when I was able to make time for her. But now it's been over a month of nothing." He bites his lip. "Sometimes I wonder if she even misses me at all."

"Nick," she says softly. "You know that's not true. She loves you. That's why she wishes you were home more. You should hear the way she talks about you at school."

"Does she-" Nick starts to say, but then clams up when Mary Anne appears seemingly out of nowhere.

"Everything taste alright?" she asks cheerily as she refills their water glasses, oblivious to the mood at the table. Jess nods awkwardly and Nick takes a sip of coffee to avoid making eye contact. The waitress gives them a bright smile. "Sounds great, let me know if you need anything!" she says before heading back off towards the register.

They sit in silence for a few moments, two friends eating breakfast in the middle of the night. Time, coffee, and real food seem to be doing their part, and Nick appears to be sobering up ever so slightly. He's right in that sweet spot where he's not rambling incoherently but he's still uninhibited enough to actually talk about his feelings.

Nick takes a deep breath, a look of longing falling over his features. "I used to always tuck Abbi in at night. I couldn't be there for her during the day like Caroline, but I would set aside an hour every evening to read her a story and tell her I loved her before she went to sleep."

He stirs the spoon in his coffee. "When Abbi got a little older she got tired of the same picture books every night. So I used to make up these stories, about this ex-cop turned private investigator who solves all the cases the real cops don't want people to know about. Caroline thought they were too complicated for someone her age, but Abbi loved them. She's always been a bright kid."

Nick smiles at the memory. "You know I'm not great at talking about feelings, but for some reason it was always easy for me to talk to her through stories. Julius Pepperwood was the guy who I wanted to be, the underdog who played by his own rules and helped people in need, all the people the world forgot about but he knew were worth saving. That's what I wanted Abbi to think of me, that I was one of the good guys, someone she could be proud of."

"She is proud of you," Jess tells him earnestly. "She's writing her own version of those stories you used to tell, and it's clearly based off of you. You're her hero."

"That's just the thing." Nick frowns at his coffee, whatever slight glimpse of happiness gone from his eyes. "Pepperwood isn't real. He's just some mirage that I can never live up to. Heroes only live in stories. There are no real-life heroes. Your heroes always let you down."

"Well, that's just dumb," she says confidently. "So what if you're not perfect? No one is. Abbi doesn't expect you to be. Kids are more perceptive than most people give them credit for. They can tell the difference between obligation and real love. You know why she looks forward to pancakes every year on her birthday? Because you're there. You know why she saves all those bedtime stories you told her? Not because Pepperwood is perfect, but because he's you, her father, telling her about how he wants the world to be for her. A good world where there are still good guys like you in it. You're her hero because you're her father and she knows you love her. And she loves _you_. No matter what."

Nick stares at her, a little surprised, like she's just flipped his world on it's head. She wonders when the last time he thought of himself as something other than "not quite good enough." It hurts her to see him beating himself up over this, too caught up in all his little mistakes to see the bigger picture, all the good he's doing. He's a great father. He cares so much about Abbi, and it's clear that his daughter feels the same about him, even if he isn't around as much as she'd like.

"And you know what?" She points at him with her fork. "I don't think it's fair for Caroline to cut you out of Abbi's life while you and Caroline figure out whatever is going on between you two. And I think you both ought to step back and consider how this is affecting her. Caroline needs to be more understanding of your point of view, but you also need to keep your end of the deal and actually set aside more time in your work schedule for Abbi."

"Don't you think I'm trying?" he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I've been calling Caroline nonstop. She won't listen to me."

Jess nods and takes another bite of her pancakes. "Did you try using the feelings stick?"

Nick makes a turtleface at her.

"Well?" she asks.

"No."

"Don't knock it until you try it!" she says teasingly. "But seriously, it can't hurt. Worst case scenario: she still doesn't call. You've got nothing to lose."

Nick narrows his eyes, and his frown deepens. Jess looks him in the eye, because she's just as stubborn as he is, especially when she knows she's right. They're momentarily caught in a staring contest, each party daring the other to back down. Nick breaks first. Jess eats a bite of her pancakes in triumph.

"Fine. It's not going to work, though," Nick insists as he scrapes up the remains of his eggs from his plate.

"We'll see." Jess smiles brightly, and treats herself to a victory strawberry.

* * *

They don't get back to the loft until almost 4 a.m. Jess sleeps in until noon. Nick, presumably nursing a massive hangover, has already left for his law office before she finally drags herself out of bed. He runs into her later that evening, but he only asks her about her lesson plans for the week, not acknowledging their late-night adventure. Jess wonders if he even remembers what he told her, or if everything that happened after he left the bar is one black blur and she had only been talking to Drunk Nick the entire time.

On Monday morning Nick sits beside her at the kitchen island and hands her a sealed envelope. Jess accepts it carefully, taking note of Nick's careful handwriting on the front that addresses it to " _Abbi_."

"I was hoping you could give that to her," he explains, looking nervous. "I know you can't get involved, and you don't have to do anything that will get you in trouble. But-"

"Of course."

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Jess."

* * *

Jess thinks she is probably crossing some kind of line of by getting this involved in the personal life of one of her students, but Abbi's reaction is worth it. Abbi lights up when she opens the envelope and pulls out the handmade card that reads " _Happy Birthday"_ with a few hand-drawn butterflies on the cover. Abbi reads the note inside, an excited smile on her face the whole time. It might not seem like much, but Jess can see just how much it means to Abbi.


	11. I can't believe you're here

_God, he feels so stupid._

Nick's sitting on the edge of his bed in his little shoebox of a room, his beat up cellphone in one hand and an embellished bundle of glorified popsicle sticks in the other. He runs his thumb over the red plastic feather glued to the end. This is dumb. He's a grown-ass man. He doesn't need some glitter-covered twig to make him brave.

" _Whoever's holding the Feelings Stick has permission to say whatever he or she is feeling without being judged."_ Jess' voice echoes in his head.

Nick groans and flops back onto the mattress. They're called feelings for a reason. If people were supposed to talk about them, they would be called talkings. You're supposed to keep everything all tangled up in your chest until you can figure it out by yourself. And if any of pesky feelings try to escape from your mouth, you're supposed to shove everything down and ignore it until it goes away. That's what adults do.

But maybe Jess has a point. Bottling things up has only made things worse for him. As much as he hates to admit it, the times when he has opened up to her about the complicated mess that's become his life were actually good. It was like a hundred pound weight was lifted off his chest and he could actually breathe again. There's something about talking to her that put things in perspective and made everything seem a little less hopeless, like he might actually be able to turn things around. And when she says she believes in him, he gets the feeling she actually means it. He's gotten used to being cynical about human nature working as a corporate lawyer that it's refreshing to stumble upon something honest.

" _So, Nick,"_ the mini-Jess on his shoulder asks him. " _How do you feel?"_

He takes a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. He talks so damn much every single day at work, why is this so hard? Nick screws up his face in concentration, his fingers gripped tight around the travel-sized feelings stick.

He's mad that Caroline won't call him back and that he hasn't been able to see his daughter in over a month. He's angry at her because he feels like she's being immature about this whole situation. He's pissed off about that stunt she pulled three weeks ago when she came to his office to drop off his stuff and told him she wanted a break, as if he was just some troublesome ex-boyfriend and hasn't been her husband for the past eleven years.

But underneath all that anger, he's just sad. He misses seeing them. He feels like a part of his chest has been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole where his heart is supposed to be. It's so overwhelming that sometimes he feel like he can't breathe. He's such a damn mess. He feels like he's about to cry all the time now. It's pathetic, just the other day he almost broke down in the middle of a furniture store. Whenever he sees something that reminds him of Caroline or Abbi and he'll find himself clenching his jaw and fighting back tears.

It's tearing him apart. He feels so guilty, so ashamed that he let them down. It's like a deep pit in the bottom of his stomach, twisting and turning his stomach into knots. When he tries to fall asleep it's all he can think about, all those worries about how he's not good enough crawling out of the dark corner he tries to shove them into. He replays all the mistakes he's made over the years, every misstep that led him down this road. Every flaw and shortcoming that makes him a horrible husband and father.

Maybe Caroline's right. Maybe they need a break. Time to take a breath and figure out who they are and where they're going. He can fix himself, buff out all the dents until he's the man that Caroline fell in love with and the father Abbi looks up to.

He's worried about Abbi. He's worried about how this is making her feel, about how this will affect the way she grows up. Whatever is happening with him and Caroline is a different issue. Abbi still needs him. She still needs both of them to be her parents.

Nick takes a deep breath to collect his thoughts. Then he tightens his grip on the feelings stick and dials the number he knows by heart. It goes to voicemail, the sound of his wife's cheery recording ringing in his ears.

"It's Nick again. I love you. I'm sorry. I can't remember how many times I've said that at this point, but I'm gonna keep saying it until you believe me."

"Anyway, I'm calling you because we-" he pauses and glances down at the feelings stick. "I _feel_ like it's important for us to talk. I know space is what you need right now, and I feel like it's important to honor that. I know I've been letting Abbi down but I don't feel like being completely cut out of her life is right for her either. I want the same things you do; I want to do what's best for Abbi. Whatever problems we have, we can't let them get in the way of being her parents. Maybe you need time away from me as your husband, but I still want to talk to you face-to-face about Abbi, about what's best for her, even if we have to spend some time apart."

"Can we call a truce? Tomorrow I'm going to be at the little coffee shop you like on South Central from open to close. Please come talk to me. I love you. I'm sorry. I hope you make it. Goodbye, Caroline."

* * *

Nick doesn't expect her to show up. He desperately wants her to, hopes with every fiber of his being that she'll realize how important it is to not give up on them. But over the years he's learned the importance of reasonable expectations. He's been told that he only sees the worst in people, but that's only because people are the worst _._ If you expect anything else, you'll always end up disappointed.

He calls in sick to work under the condition that he'll get twice as much done at home than at the office. There will be a cloud of unspoken disapproval among the other partners about him not coming in, about him being anything less than 115% committed to his job, but he can take it. He's built up a strong enough reputation and enough credibility that they'll let it slide just this once. Teresa insists it's fine for him to take the day off, especially since he hasn't taken a vacation day in years, and promises to cover for him and forward all his important messages to his cell.

The coffee shop opens at 7 a.m. Nick gets there early and anxiously waits inside his car until they flip the sign in the front window to read " _We're open! Come on in!"_ Nick is the first person in the store, and he buys a muffin and a coffee from the bleary-eyed barista before setting up shop at a table in the back corner where he can have a little privacy but can still see everyone that comes in the front entrance.

He spends the first two hours on pins and needles, his heart racing and knee bouncing underneath the table. He can't help perking up every time the door opens, hoping to see Caroline walk in. But he quickly gives up once the morning rush starts to hit, just glancing up every few minutes to make sure he doesn't miss her. Time crawls by, and Nick slowly makes his way through the massive pile of paperwork and reading he still has to get done on his 'off' day.

He's marking notes in the margin of a document when he hears the barista call out, "I have a latte for Caroline at the bar."

Nick's head snaps up. He watches dumbstruck as Caroline drops a handful of change in the tip jar and takes her drink. She walks over to where he's sitting. He can't help but notice the way her hands are trembling nervously.

"Hi," she says softly.

He looks at her in disbelief. "Hi."

"Can I?" She gestures to the seat across from him and he nods quickly.

"Yeah. Of course." He sticks his pen in the crease of the document before closing it and shoving it into his briefcase.

Caroline sits down carefully, setting her drink down on the table. He glances down at her hands. His heart leaps when he sees that she's still wearing her wedding ring. Maybe she hasn't given up on them entirely. Maybe they can still make this work.

There's a heavy tension in the air, and Nick struggles to find the right words to say. He's been practicing for weeks, running every option through his head. But now that he's here in the moment he can't help but feel like they're all inadequate.

"So, um-" Caroline clears her throat nervously. "How have you been?"

Part of him wants to laugh. It's such a mundane question. The kind of thing you ask a not-quite-stranger when you're trying to be polite. His knee-jerk reaction is to lie, to say he's fine. He's so used to putting up a front, creating this perfect outside image of himself and refusing to let anyone in. But he thinks about Jess, and how she's chipped away a part of that shell and wormed her way into his life, and how much better things have been ever since he opened up. Caroline actually showed up today and he has the bundle of popsicle sticks in his back pocket to thank for it.

"Not great," he admits, and isn't that the fucking understatement of the year. But he's not here to talk about himself. "How's Abbi?" he asks, his voice wavering as he tries not to start crying in the middle of a fucking coffee shop.

"She's doing okay. She misses you."

Nick looks down into his coffee, willing himself to pull himself together. He can't fall apart in front of her. He can't. He knew things weren't great based on all the secondhand information he's gleaned from Jess' stories about his daughter, but it's still hard to hear Caroline confirm that all of it is true. That his worst nightmare has become a reality. That he's a terrible father.

"Caroline, I-" he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart and remember the speech he rehearsed in front of the bathroom mirror nearly fifty times. "I want to respect your need for space. But I need you to respect my needs too. What we have right now isn't working. I need to be able to see my daughter. Tell me what you want from me. Don't shut me out like this."

She nods, her fingernails picking at the edge of her coffee sleeve. "I think we need to take a break. I realized that I'm not happy, and I haven't been happy for a while."

It was a punch to the chest the first time he heard her say it, and the blow isn't any softer this time around. If this has been going on for a while, why is he only hearing this from her now? She's his wife, she's supposed to tell him these things. He's supposed to know when things are going wrong so he can fix them. How could he have missed this? Was he so buried in his work that he couldn't see what was in front of him? Or has she been trying to act like things are fine, in the hopes that if she pretends long enough that they will be? No matter how he tries to justify it now he can't.

"I want to be there for you." Nick reaches towards where her hand is resting on the table, but she reflexively pulls it back. It makes him sick to his stomach, the way she won't even let him touch her now. He pulls his hand back to rest in his lap. "I want to try to fix this."

"Maybe you can't, Nick."

"What do you mean I can't? You won't even let me try?" He has to remind himself to stay calm. The last thing he wants is another screaming match between them. "Please, just talk to me. We'll make sense of it together."

Caroline sighs, staring down at the table to avoid meeting his gaze, like she can't even bear to look him in the eye. "I feel like I can't tell you things."

"I'm your _husband_ ," Nick says in disbelief. She can tell him anything, no matter what. That's what he's here for. He took a vow to stand by her side, to listen to her and care for her. How can she not understand that?

"That's why I can't. I don't want you to realize that I'm not perfect."

"I don't expect you to be perfect," he says softly. "You don't have to be. I love you."

"I know that. I know. But-" she pauses, as if she's struggling to find the right words. "I keep wondering if you actually mean it, or if you're just saying it because you have to."

That hurts. He knows heartbreak is supposed to be a metaphor, but the pain he's feeling is too sharp to be anything but real. It feels like he's holding the shards of his heart in his chest as the life he's worked so hard to build crumbles before his very eyes. "Caroline, honey, of course I do."

"The only reason we got married in the first place was because I was pregnant," she says seriously. "Without Abbi we never would have stayed together this long."

That's not true," he insists. "I still would have married you. I love you. I _love_ you."

Caroline just shakes her head slightly, looking unconvinced. Nick can still hear her words from three weeks ago ringing in his ears, " _I don't know if I love you anymore_." He knows that she must still love him. They've been together for too long and been through too much together for it all to mean nothing to her. He just has to win her over, like he did back in college when Caroline was the hot girl down the hall he had a crush on. He's still that guy she fell in love with, he just has to prove it her.

"Abbi really wants to see you," she says, trying to change the topic. "If you have the time."

"I'll make time," Nick says, determined.

"You could call and talk to her during the week, as long as it's before her bedtime. And on the weekends you could pick her up and spend time with her, as long as you aren't in the office or doing work. Does that work for you?"

The ball is still clearly in Caroline's court, and Nick can't help but feel like it's unfair how little control he has over the situation. It's nothing close to what he wants. He wants to be back at home with his wife and daughter. But it's _something_. He hasn't seen Abbi in over a month. He'd do anything just to hear her voice for five minutes.

Nick takes a deep breath. "That's great."

"Actually," Caroline reaches into her purse and pulls up something on her phone. "I know this is last minute, but Abbi's school has the day off this coming Wednesday and I had already scheduled to work that day-"

"You got a job?"

She looks up from her phone, looking a little embarrassed. "It's no big deal. I'm just a part-time waitress. I pick up a few hours here and there whenever Abbi's in school. The owner's daughter is a grade older than Abbi, so they like to have playdates together."

He's pleasantly surprised. Their fights never end in compromise, but here's Caroline, actually trying to meet him in the middle. With two incomes they could have enough financial wiggle room that he could actually cut down on a lot of his overtime hours. _This is progress_. The door is still open. Now he just has to convince Caroline to give him another shot and she can fall in love with him all over again.

"I'll take Wednesday off from work. You can drop Abbi off before your shift, if that's alright with you," Nick suggests and Caroline nods absentmindedly as she taps out something on her phone.

"Sure. Just text me the address and I'll let you know the exact time on Tuesday," Caroline shuts off her phone and takes another sip of her latte as she checks the time. "Well, I need to get going."

"Oh. I'll walk you out," Nick says, shoving things into his briefcase.

"You don't have to do that," Caroline replies with a dismissive wave of her hand, but Nick's already packed and ready to leave.

He follows her out the door to where she parked, which is only a few feet from the entrance of the shop. Nick tightens his grip on the handle of his briefcase and shoves his free hand into his pocket. He awkwardly hovers at her side as she unlocks her car.

"Well," Caroline says once the door's opened. "I'll see you on Wednesday then."

"Alright." Nick nods. "Tell Abbi I can't wait to see her."

"I will," she says seriously.

"Take care. I love you."

She doesn't say it back to him, just smiles tightly, and Nick can't help but notice the gleam of pity in her eyes.

* * *

Nick ends up going to the law office that afternoon anyway. Admittedly, he's more productive when he's actually there and he has a stack of paperwork that needs to be filed by the end of the day. Teresa stops to ask him if he's actually alright, but he waves off her concerns and claims it was just a stomach bug. She gives him a shrewd look before passing over his messages from the morning, which he gratefully accepts. He buckles down and quickly catches up on everything he missed, checking off item after item on his to-do list.

During his lunch break he sends a vacation day request to Linda in HR and then spends the rest of the half hour planning the best father-daughter day ever.


	12. Nick & Abbi Miller Day of Fun

Jess wakes up to a knock on her door. She rolls over, still half asleep, and stumbles to the door. She opens it to find a grinning Nick on the other side. It freaks her out. She must still be asleep. Who is this guy and what has he done to the real Nick Miller? She didn't think Nick's face was capable of doing that.

"Blueberry or chocolate chip?" he asks, without giving her any further context.

"Both," she says reflexively.

Nick snaps his fingers and turns them into finger guns. "You got it." He smiles at her before heading off down the hall.

Jess chases after him, still incredibly confused. Now that she's actually awake, she can't help but notice how odd this whole situation is. She watches as Nick bustles around the kitchen in a flour-dusted apron. He sprinkles blueberries and chocolate chips onto the tops of a few half-cooked pancakes, and then turns back to the counter and carefully measures out ingredients into a bowl. Jess sits down on one of the stools in the kitchen, wondering what alternate reality she's stumbled into.

Nick looks so different. His beard is gone and it looks like he's combed his hair for once instead of sporting his usual bedhead. He leans across the island to pick up one of the plates from the stack beside her elbow and she catches a whiff of something like oak with a hint of spice. "Are you wearing cologne?" she asks in disbelief.

He shrugs and smiles sheepishly. "Yeah. Thought I ought to clean myself up a little bit. Actually take care of myself for once, you know?"

"Take care of yourself?" she repeats, transfixed by the way the muscles of his arm flex as he whisks up another batch of pancake mix. Have his arms always been that strong? He flips over a pancake, and she stares at the twist of his wrist and the grip of his fingers on the spatula. How has she never noticed how large his hands are? She blinks and shakes her head, because this is ridiculous. They're just arms. Plenty of people have them.

Part of her mind must still be stuck in dream mode. That's the only possible explanation for this sudden moment of insanity. This is _Nick_ she's talking about. They're just roommates. She's never thought about him that way, not even once. Nope, certainly not. Well, except for that one time when she stumbled half-asleep into the kitchen for a late night snack and caught him gargling his beer. It was practically pornographic. It was like he was being sprayed down with a hose during some cheesy car-wash scene in a movie, and Jess had stared at him for a few moments before blinking awake and running back to her room. And that image definitely hasn't been a recurring feature in her dreams ever since.

This is all Sleeping Jess' fault. She can't be held responsible for the sometimes dirty, twirly thoughts of Sleeping Jess, that sultry minx. She hasn't had sex in a while, so it won't be long before she'll start looking at Schmidt that way too, and her stomach heaves just at the thought. Besides, Nick's _married_. He's off-limits. Jess knows what it's like to be cheated on. The last thing she wants is to be some homewrecker. She's probably just hungry.

That doesn't mean she can't enjoy the view though. Jess absentmindedly twirls a lock of hair around her finger and watches as Nick finishes a short stack and sets it down in front of her. The action makes the fabric of his flannel shirt stretch a little over the front of his chest, and it takes Jess a few seconds to register that he's not wearing his usual dress clothes. _God, why does he look so good?_ It doesn't make any sense, guys are supposed to look hotter when they're in a suit, right? So then why is seeing him dressed like a lumberjack totally working on her? Jess bites down on her lower lip and suppresses the urge to fan herself like the heroine in a bad Harlequin romance novel.

Thankfully Nick seems entirely oblivious to how he's making her all hot and bothered. She would never be able to live that embarrassing realization down. He turns back to the stove, and she's so distracted by the sight of his butt that she blurts out, "You're... you're wearing jeans?"

"Nick's in jeans!" Schmidt exclaims in surprise, suddenly appearing in his doorway. Nick laughs and hands him a plate with a blueberry pancake. "Incredible," he says sarcastically in between bites. "Never thought I'd see the day. Look, he's even got me eating carbs again. What a world we're living in."

Schmidt finishes a third of his pancake before passing the plate back to Nick, who pours syrup onto the remaining portion and digs in. "Now if you'll excuse me," Schmidt says, pouring coffee into his travel mug before heading out the door. "Some of us have work today."

It's early Wednesday morning, and the school district has an impromptu day off while the central office updates their computer system. Jess was planning to use the day to finally make some headway into her massive scarf project. "Aren't you going into the office?" she asks Nick, who's leaning against the kitchen counter, enjoying Schmidt's leftovers while another batch of pancakes cooks on the stove.

"I took the day off."

"You what?" She nearly falls off her seat in shock. "Do you feel okay?"

He shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "My vacation days don't carry over each fiscal year, so I thought I might as well use them while I can."

Jess just stares at him in disbelief. She considers calling Schmidt back into the loft because she has a bad feeling that this is some weird Nick-style nervous breakdown and he's their resident Nick-expert. But her panicking thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. Nick sets down his plate to go answer it and Jess trails after him, still too confused to guess what's going on. She stands off by the couch while he opens the door and cranes her head around the corner to see who it is. Jess quickly recognizes the young girl in the blue sweater with her blonde hair pulled back into matching pigtails.

"Dad!" Abbi cries out, and Nick drops down to one knee and pulls her into a tight hug.

He wraps his arm around his daughter like he's never going to let go, and she presses her face into his shoulder. After a long moment he pulls away to look at her, a huge grin on his face. "Hey there, Little A," he says with a smile, and hoists her up with a grunt. "Oh man, when did you get so big? I'm going to have to start calling you Big A now."

Abbi giggles and clings tight to his neck. Nick smiles and presses a kiss to her temple.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Jess glances over Nick's shoulder to see his wife standing in the hallway. Caroline scrolls through something on her phone before shutting it off and sticking it back into her purse. "My shift ends at three, but I'll plan to pick her up at five."

"Sounds great," Nick says with a smile, still looking at Abbi like he can't believe she's actually in his arms again.

"Alright," Caroline swallows nervously. "You have my phone number in case something goes wrong." She shifts her grip on the strap of her purse as she says seriously, "Don't make me regret this."

Nick's grip on Abbi tightens. "I won't."

Caroline nods, "Okay. Bye, Abbi. I'll be back to pick you up later tonight. Have fun."

"Bye, Mom."

Caroline smiles at Abbi before turning and walking off down the hallway, and Nick shuts the the door behind her. He carries Abbi to the kitchen before setting her down on one of the stools at the island.

"Hi, Miss Day," Abbi says to Jess as she sits down next to her.

"Hi, Abbi," she returns the greeting with a smile. "If you want, you can call me Miss Jess when we're not at school."

Abbi twists her mouth up and she considers the offer. "Alright," she finally decides with a nod. "My mom said that Dad was living with his friend Mr. Schmidt, do you live with him too?"

"Yep," Jess confirms. "Your dad lives here in the loft with us."

"For now," Nick adds quickly, his back to them as he puts the final touches on the plate he's working on. He turns and presents a carefully arranged stack of chocolate chip pancakes, complete with whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. "Voila! Happy belated birthday, sweetheart."

"Birthday pancakes! You remembered!" Abbi's face lights up, and the resulting look of sheer joy and pride on Nick's face makes Jess' heart melt. Abbi grabs her fork and digs in, talking enthusiastically with her mouth still half-full. "Mom tried to make some, but they weren't as good as yours."

Nick smiles at his daughter, but doesn't ask her to elaborate on her offhand comment, which Jess appreciates. He doesn't want to make Caroline seem like the 'worse' parent or goad his daughter into picking a side. All he wants is for his daughter to know is that she is loved, by both her mom and her dad. Abbi continues to eat her pancakes with vigor, and Nick brushes a stray speck of chocolate off the tip of her nose before stealing a taste of whipped cream from her plate. Abbi's face scrunches up in mock anger, and she jabs her fork towards him in warning. _Abbi doesn't share food_. Nick laughs and holds his hands up in surrender, and Abbi narrows her eyes at him suspiciously before going back to eating.

He sets his elbows down on the island and shifts his weight down onto his forearms, leaning towards Abbi so he's at her eye-level. "Well, we have almost the whole day together. Anything you're interested in doing? Birthday girl gets whatever she wants."

Abbi chews thoughtfully on a bite of pancake before shrugging.

Nick nervously rubs his palms together. "I was thinking we could go see a movie. They're playing _Hidden Figures_ at Cinema 7."

"Yes!" Abbi nods eagerly. "Yes yes yes! Miss Jess told me about it in school, she said it's really, really good."

"It is a great movie," Jess confirms.

"See! You should come with us. Dad, can Miss Jess come along?"

Jess' eyes widen. This is the first time Nick's been able to spend time with Abbi, she can't take that away from them. "Oh no. You guys have fun together. I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding," Nick says with a smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. "The more, the merrier."

"C'mon Miss Jess, it'll be even more fun with you too!"

She hesitates, because this is _Nick's_ day with Abbi. He doesn't need her to wiggle her way into what little time he gets with his daughter. "I don't know..."

"Yeah, Miss Jess," Nick says teasingly. "It'll be fun."

"You're absolutely sure?" she double checks. Nick and Abbi bob their heads in unison. "Well, alright then."

They have a while before they need to leave for the movie. Jess excuses herself to shower and get dressed while Abbi finishes her breakfast and Nick cleans up his mess. Once she's done getting ready, Jess returns to find that they've relocated to the couch. The sugar from all the chocolate she just ate hits Abbi all at once, and she bounces in her seat and starts jabbering excitedly about everything that's happened since she last saw her dad. Abbi tells him all about how much she likes 5th grade, the new book series her librarian recommended to her, and her new friend Sara who's in a different class than her but they still hang out during lunch because they like the same kinds of books. Nick nods along as Abbi prattles on and on, commenting and asking questions every so often to keep her going.

Nick looks so happy. The dark cloud that's been hanging over his head has disappeared, and he looks so much lighter because of it. Jess finds that she can't stop herself from staring at him, captured by the way he reacts to his daughter's excited chatter. He glances over to Jess and smiles so warmly at her that it makes her stomach flip over. Her throat goes dry, because he looks _good_. Nick is relaxed and happy and when he smiles at Jess there's a lingering gleam of affection in his eyes.

 _Oh no_ , she thinks, because there's no scenario in which this ends well.

* * *

The Nick and Abbi Miller Day of Fun with special guest star Jessica Day is made up of a long series of events that are practically pulled straight out of one of her favorite rom-coms, which would be hilarious if she wasn't the one struggling through it.

To be fair, Jess was doomed from the start. She _loves_ going to the movies. She loves the too-buttery taste of overpriced movie theatre popcorn, the little rush of excitement she gets when they dim the lights right before the movie starts, the huge screen that takes up every part of her attention and pulls her into the other reality of whatever she's watching. It's a mid-week matinee, so they're the only ones in the theater until an elderly couple comes in and sits down in the row behind them just before the previews start.

Abbi sits in between Nick and Jess, a huge bucket of popcorn carefully balanced in her lap. Jess has already seen the film, but she's never seen Nick and Abbi together, so she ends up spending most of the two hours watching them interact in the dim lighting of the theater. Whenever something particularly exciting happens, Abbi's eyes go wide and she reaches over to grab onto the sleeve of her dad's shirt with a quiet gasp. Nick leans down to whisper some cheesy joke whenever her can think of one, and Abbi rolls her eyes and shushes him as he chuckles at his own sense of humor. Some point halfway through the movie Nick stretches his arm around Abbi's shoulders, and she leans into him and rests her head against the side of his chest. Nick smiles down at her and presses a kiss to the top of her head before turning his attention back to the screen.

Everything about the two of them makes Jess' heart melt even more, until her chest feels like this big gooey mass. Nick glances over at Jess and catches her staring at him. The corner of his mouth quirks up and he winks at her before turning his attention back to the screen. Jess stares at him in shock for several long seconds, and that flutter in the pit of his stomach from this morning kicks back into gear.

After the movie's over, Abbi takes her dad's hand and leads him out of the theatre, already launching into an in-depth review of the film. Nick smiles and follows after her. Jess lingers by their seats to make sure they've cleaned up after themselves and that they aren't forgetting anything.

"Excuse me, sweetie." Jess looks up. The elderly woman who was sitting behind them is smiling gently at her. "You have such a _lovely_ family."

"Oh! Um-" Jess stammers, caught completely off-guard. She has no idea how to respond. She doesn't want to be rude and correct some stranger's harmless assumption with a long-winded explanation neither of them would have time for. She opts for the safety of the white lie, puts on her best smile, and graciously says, "Aw, you're too sweet! Thank you!"

The old woman smiles again at Jess, and pats her gently on the shoulder before turning back to her wife and carefully escorting her down the steps. Jess is still reeling from the casual comment when she meets back up with Nick and Abbi in the lobby.

"Hey," Nick says with a smile, and Jess swallows nervously. "I know we just had a ton of popcorn, but I was planning to get sandwiches and have a picnic in the park. That sound alright with you?"

Jess nods dumbly. "Yeah. Sounds great."

Nick grins at her and Jess can feel her heart stutter in her chest. _Oh no._

They explore the park for a while before enjoying their lunch on a picnic table by a small lake. Jess sits across from Abbi, her leg pressed up against Nick's as they sit next to each other at the small table. Later, they wander through a little bookstore where Abbi searches for some sci-fi book her friend recommended. Nick wanders around the shelves with her, creating fake summaries of books based on their covers. It seems like this is a game Nick and Abbi have played before. Their descriptions get more ridiculous and fanciful as they try to one up each other. Eventually, Nick completely disregards nearly all of sense of rationality, while somehow still managing to keep a completely straight face.

"Oh, _Harry Potter!_ See, I've heard about this one, Abbi. But when you start to really think about it, the plot is filled with holes. Why would the board of detectives allow an eleven year old on the force? The whole idea of a zombie detective is absurd; all his murder victims are already dead. It just doesn't add up."

Abbi dissolves into giggles, and Nick grins proudly, ignoring the pointed look that the store associate gives them as he restocks a shelf of books.

The whole time Jess can feel this rising tension in her chest that makes her feel antsy and like she can't quite catch her breath. There seems to be something about the way Nick's finally done some basic grooming, the whole lumberjack vibe he's got going on, and the way he genuinely _cares_ about his daughter that's turning her into an emotional, twirly mess. She's not sure if she wants to kiss him and rip off that flannel shirt he's wearing or if she wants to move up to Portland with him and have his babies.

And she can't forget that this is _Nick_ she's having these weird feelings for. Nick Miller, the workaholic lawyer and the father of one of her former students. Nick Miller, who is _married_ , even though his wife isn't fully in the picture at the moment. Nick Miller, who is still clinging desperately to the hope that he can win her back. The last thing he needs is some twirly, baby-crazy girl roommate ruining his one chance to get his family back. So Jess shoves all of her confusing feelings down and tries to forget they ever existed in the first place.

They get back to the loft just before Caroline comes over to pick up Abbi. Jess awkwardly lingers in the hallway by her room, trying not to be too obvious about eavesdropping.

Nick drops down to Abbi's level to pull her into a fierce hug. "Thanks for spending the day with me, Little A. I had a lot of fun. It was really good to see you."

"I miss seeing you," Abbi says sadly, pressing her face into his shoulder. "When are you coming home?"

Nick looks up at Caroline, "I don't know, sweetheart. Your mom and I still need to figure some stuff out. We'll see."

Caroline looks uncomfortable, and clears her throat nervously. "C'mon, Abbi, we've got to get home. You still have school tomorrow."

Abbi gives her dad one final squeeze before letting go. "Bye, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too. I'll see you again soon," Nick says with a smile and teasingly pinches Abbi's cheek. His daughter laughs and pushes his hand away. He rises to his feet with a laugh, and then shoves his hands into his front pockets uneasily. "Good to see you too, Caroline."

She gives him a tight, polite smile and takes their daughter's hand. Nick returns the expression, but his jaw is tense and his eyes aren't bright like they were earlier. "Take care, Nick."

The door shuts and Nick leans up against it, letting out a long sigh and running a hand through his hair. He stands there for a few moments, before taking another deep breath and heading towards the hallway. Jess sneaks back into her room and tries to appear casual, rifling through the stack of papers on her desk at random.

"Hey, Jess," Nick says from across the hall, leaning against the doorframe of his room.

She sets down the papers and turns to look at him. "Yeah, Nick?"

"Thanks. For today. And for the advice the other night." He smiles at her, and it's so genuine that it makes Jess feel a little dizzy.

"Of course," she says breathlessly.

"It's crazy, but I think I might have a chance, you know?" Nick shrugs and looks down at his shoes with a grin that's equal parts nervous and excited. "Of making things right again. Getting my wife and daughter back. And it's all thanks to you."

Jess nods at him, and he gives her one last smile before pushing off the doorframe and going into his room. She stares at the closed door for a moment before shaking her head and sitting down at her desk to get some actual work done. But first she pulls out her phone and downloads the dating app that Cece recommended she give a try. Nick Miller is married and has a family he needs to take care of. She's not going to get in the way of that.


	13. The Wedding

"Hey, Jess," Nick says, trying to lean on her doorframe casually.

Jess looks up from her work and smiles at him. "Hey, Nick."

"Any plans for today?"

"Just grading. The glamorous life of an elementary school teacher," she jokes, and Nick chuckles and sticks his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. "Nice suspenders. You guys are going to that wedding today, right?"

"Actually, about that-" he clears his throat nervously. "I know this is short notice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? I originally RSVP'd for myself and Caroline but, well, you know. Anyways, I have an extra plus-one. Winston and Schmidt are going too and I didn't want you to feel left out."

"I'd love to!" Jess beams. "I'm so fun at weddings. This will be great!"

There's a glimmer of fear in Nick's eyes as he realizes what he's walked himself into. But then he shakes his head and laughs softly. "I'm sure you are." Nick checks his watch. "We're leaving in just over an hour."

"Super!" Jess says excitedly, marking her work with a sticky note before setting it aside for later. "I'll start getting ready."

"Great." Nick nods before leaving her room.

Jess ducks into her closet and starts digging around for her favorite dresses. _What was the dress protocol for a fall wedding?_ In hindsight, she definitely should've asked Nick for the actual dress code before he left. But then again, she's not sure if Nick would be the best source of advice when it comes to fashion. Maybe Schmidt would know...

"Jess?" Schmidt's voice echoes her room, as if he'd been suddenly summoned the instant she thought of him. _Seriously, how does he do that?_

"In the closet!" she yells back. Schmidt pokes his head around the corner of the sliding door, and she holds out the yellow floral dress she got from a little secondhand store the other week. Nothing says fall like empire-waisted, floor-length '70s revival fashion. "Hey, is this okay for a fall wedding?"

Schmidt's nose wrinkles in disgust. "Absolutely not. That dress is not okay for any conceivable situation. It looks like my grandmother's curtains. Burn it."

Jess narrows her eyes and sticks out her tongue at him before placing it back on the rack. He has no idea what he's talking about, it's a great dress.

Schmidt elbows past her and surveys her color-coordinated closet. "So I heard Nick invited you to the wedding."

"Yeah! I'm _so_ excited."

"Look," he says seriously. "The bride is Caroline's old sorority sister from college, so she's definitely going to be there. This is the first time Nick and Caroline will be in the same room for longer than an hour since she kicked him out three months ago. I need you to stick with him to make sure things don't get ugly, okay?"

Jess nods. "Yeah, of course."

Schmidt forcefully rifles through a few of her dresses, looking over each one critically. "Nick is my best friend, okay? And this whole situation is pretty fucked up. Just make sure he's alright."

For all of his douchey posturing, Schmidt really is a good guy. It warms her heart to hear him genuinely caring about other people, especially those closest to him. "I'll watch out for him," she promises. "That last thing I want is for Nick to get hurt."

"Thanks." Schmidt smiles at her and bumps their shoulders together. Then he turns and holds up a short, plum-colored dress against her before nodding decisively. "This with the black heels. And for the love of God, _please_ do something about your hair. You're going to a wedding, not working in a Russian sweat shop."

Jess rolls her eyes and shoos him out of the room so she can get changed into the dress. It barely fits over her hips. It's a whole lot tighter then she remembers, but she manages to squeeze into it with the help of her tightest pair of compression shorts. She steps into the heels Schmidt picked out and does a small twirl in front of her mirror. _Lookin' good, Jessica Day_. After touching up her eye makeup, she fusses with her bangs for a few minutes before deciding to cave in and raid Schmidt's hair caddy.

It seems like Nick has the same idea as her. She walks into the bathroom to find him running a comb through his hair, Schmidt's hair gel in hand. He's wearing a vest that matches his slacks. His suit jacket hangs on an empty towel hook. Although he's started wearing more casual clothes at home, Jess is used to seeing him in suits for work. But he usually sticks to more conservative suit choices: black, navy, and the occasional dark gray with equally drab ties. This shade of brown really suits him, and the waistcoat is an interesting deviation from his typical suit jacket and slacks.

"Three-piece suit," she casually remarks, and he glances away from the mirror to look at her over his shoulder. "Classy move, Nick Miller."

Nick laughs and turns to face her when she steps up to the sink next to him. He looks her up and down, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a mixture of surprise and appreciation. "Wow. You look great."

Jess smiles and blushes a little. She never knows how to take a compliment, so she puts on her best Cockney accent and says, "Why thank ya, govenah."

He groans, setting Schmidt's hair gel back on the shelf. "Please tell me you aren't going to do that all night."

"I'm just doin' what my Mama learnt me," she replies with a her best approximation of a Southern accent and a grin.

Nick lets out another exasperated groan and shrugs into his suit jacket before leaving the bathroom. "We're leaving in ten!" he yells down the hall.

* * *

Winston heads off to "ush this wedding in the face" after they arrive, and Schmidt ditches them a few minutes later when he spots some hot girl he's had a crush on since college. So she and Nick end up all by themselves as they wait for the ceremony to start.

Jess always forgets how funny Nick can be. They don't get to spend a lot of time together because of his crazy work schedule, but she genuinely enjoys being with him. He tells her a clearly well-rehearsed story about a drunken escapade he had with Schmidt in college, and Jess finds herself laughing at his account of their ridiculous antics. Nick's face lights up every time he manages to make her laugh, and it only fuels that bubbly feeling in her chest.

"Hey, wanna hear a random thought I had the other day?" he asks her, and she nods excitedly. "Do you think seals are friends?"

She smiles at the adorable image. "I'm not sure. Otters hold hands when they're sleeping."

Nick nods pensively, like he's seriously considering the relevance of this fact to his original statement and Jess laughs again.

"Hi," a familiar voice says, and Jess looks up to see Caroline standing in the aisle.

"Caroline!" Nick says with a hint of surprise. "I didn't know you were gonna be here. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Nick." She smiles warmly at him. Caroline then glances over to Jess, a frigid tint morphing her expression into an almost veiled threat.

"Oh, and this is my roommate, Jess," Nick explains, completely unaware of the way his wife is subtly glaring daggers at Jess. "You've already met before. She was Abbi's gifted teacher last year."

"Right. I think I remember you from parent-teacher conferences," Caroline replies. Jess holds her hand out to her, and Caroline takes it in a slightly too-tight handshake.

Nick either doesn't notice the icy tension between Jess and his wife, or he's just playing it incredibly cool. Either way, it's making the situation even more awkward. "Did you bring Abbi along?" he asks, and Caroline nods.

"Yeah, she ran off to sit with her friend Rebecca."

"Becca Harrison?" Jess asks, and Caroline nods, her smile tight. "Oh, I knew they would get along!" She turns to Nick and explains excitedly, "I had her two years ago. She's the sweetest girl. _Great_ writer. She just started a Creative Writing Club at the public library." Jess looks back over to Caroline. "Abbi should look into joining."

Caroline smiles politely, and then glances around as the music starts to pick up. "Well, I better go back to my seat. Good to see you, Nick."

"Yeah, you too, Caroline."

She gives them one more glance over her shoulder as she makes her way across the aisle, and there's definitely a hint of jealousy in the way she looks at Jess.

"That was weird, right?" Nick asks her once Caroline's out of earshot, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"Yeah," Jess agrees.

He nods and lets out a thoughtful "Huh," glancing over to where his wife is sitting alone and reading over her program, pointedly avoiding looking over in their direction.

Jess opens her mouth to elaborate, but the music swells and a hush falls over the wedding attendees. So she swallows down whatever half-formed idea she had about the interaction and turns her attention to where the groom is stepping up to the altar.

* * *

The ceremony is short and sweet, and Jess tears up a little at the end because she's a romantic sap at heart and weddings make her all emotional. Nick teases her about it at the reception afterwards, playfully elbowing her and giving her a smirk over the top of his beer bottle. Abbi swings by their table a moment later with her friend Becca, their arms linked together and wearing matching gap-toothed grins.

"Hi, girls," Jess says with a smile. "It's nice to see you again, Becca. I miss having you in my class. Are you enjoying middle school?"

"Hi, Miss Day," Becca says shyly. "Yeah, so far so good."

"That's nice to hear." She glances down at her empty wine glass. "Well, I'm going to get a refill. Nick, did you want anything?" Nick shakes his head in response, and Jess leaves him to catch up with his daughter.

Once she has a fresh glass of pink wine, Jess lingers near the bar for a few moments before spotting Winston at a nearby table. She sits down next to him, and woah, these biker's shorts are _tight_. "Hey, is it bad that I can't feel my legs?"

Winston ignores her question. He's too busy staring down a young kid across the hall. "This kid is pushing my buttons."

"Winston," she says in her best calming teacher voice. "He's just a little boy, relax." But he just ignores her and hops out of his seat with a determined look in his eye. Jess sighs and takes a drink. She tugs at the bottom hem of her shorts, just to be sure her legs are still getting some kind of blood supply.

"If Brooke asks," Schmidt suddenly appears beside her shoulder, and Jess jumps in surprise. "I am six months clean and sober, and looking to settle down."

"Wait wha-" she tries to ask, but he's already melted back into the crowd just as quickly as he arrived.

Jess lets out a huff, because now she's all alone. _Again_. She hates it when the guys do this, how they're so quick to abandon her the minute they find something better to do. Well, except for Nick. And he's the one who invited her to begin with. He didn't even bring her because he had some job for her to do or because she kept pestering him until he caved in and let her tag along. Nick probably knew there was a chance Caroline would also be here, and Jess is sure she's here to be his moral support. But he also said that he didn't want her to feel left out. He's the one who actually stuck with her when Winston and Schmidt bailed on them.

She looks around the room, trying to remember where they were sitting. After a few moments, she finally spots Nick at their table with Caroline. Jess takes another long drink of her wine before walking towards them, bracing herself for the worst.

They're too busy laughing together to notice when Jess arrives at their table. She fakes a laugh as she sits down in her seat besides Nick. "Phew, crazy line at the bar. What did I miss?"

"Oh, nothing," Caroline says casually as she tosses her hair behind her shoulder and looks over at Nick meaningfully.

"We were just talking about how crazy expensive this must be," Nick explains, and then looks over to Caroline. "I mean, our wedding was _tiny_."

"You were still in law school and I was an HR Manager," Caroline laughs. "It's not like we had the money to spend on something huge. And even then my parents ended up footing most of the bill."

"Do you remember, we had the reception in the church recreation room," Nick says, laughing at the memory. "Because it was cheap and we didn't want people to stay very long."

Caroline nods. "And it worked!"

"Well, at least we didn't have a cash bar." Nick gestures across the reception hall. "I mean, c'mon, Steve, no open bar? Don't you know that's tacky? You're dad's rich and you're a lawyer, man!"

"I'm pretty sure alcohol was the _one_ thing at our wedding that your parents paid for," Caroline teases.

"Hey, the Miller family has its priorities in order, alright?" he says with a shrug. Caroline laughs again, tipping her head back and setting a hand on Nick's shoulder. He grins at her, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

Jess feels incredibly awkward. She's third-wheeling pretty hard right now. Nick and Caroline seem so absorbed in each other that Jess might as well be invisible. It's ridiculously annoying. But hey, at least Nick and Caroline aren't at each other's throats. She's _happy_ that Nick and Caroline are getting along. _She is_ , even as she can't tear her eyes away from Caroline's hand still possessively holding on to Nick's shoulder. That's not what's annoying her. _It's not._ She just wishes they would actually acknowledge her presence.

After several minutes of being completely ignored by Nick and Caroline, Jess tunes out their flirtatious banter to look around the reception hall. Over by the bar, Schmidt appears to be engaged in some oddly sexual stand-off with a woman in a pantsuit. Meanwhile on the dance floor, Winston seems to be picking a fight with the alternate usher, despite the fact that he's literally a child. Jess spares a glance across the table where Nick and Caroline still seem fine. She looks back over to Winston, who has dramatically thrown off his suit jacket as the DJ declares the start to a dance-off. Jess lets out a sigh. Why is it that she is always the one who has to deal with the messes her friends make?

"Excuse me," she says curtly. Nick tears his gaze away from Caroline to nod at Jess as she leaves, and Caroline's smile falters. Jess waves off his look of concern and heads off to handle the Winston Situation, glad to get some distance between her and the recently-reunited couple.

Jess makes it to the dance floor with every intention of staying out of the line of fire. "Winston! Come on," she tries, but he doesn't seem to hear her over the music or his frantic dancing. So, against her better judgment, she steps into the fray. The kid starts dancing with her, and Jess awkwardly tries to maneuver away from him. "Oh, hi. I don't feel like dancing right now. I'm sorry. I'm really uncomfortable right now."

As she backs away from the younger usher, Jess ends up trapped between whatever weird feud is going on between the kid and Winston. Winston comes up to her side and starts grinding up on her and she shrieks, "Oh my God! What are you doing?!"

"Mom!" the kid cries out, looking mildly horrified as he turns and runs away. "Mommy?!"

The small crowd dissipates, leaving her and Winston uncomfortably alone on the dance floor. Winston groans in frustration before turning to glare angrily at Jess. "I almost had him!"

Jess scoffs. "He is a _child_. You are literally three times his age."

"Whatever is going on here doesn't matter," Schmidt says as he joins them on the dance floor. "We've got a problem."

"What do you mean?" Jess asks.

Schmidt rolls his eyes and gestures towards where Nick and Caroline are still sitting, laughing casually like there's nothing out of the ordinary. For some reason it still irks her, but she can't place her finger on why. "Jess, I thought I told you to keep an eye on them."

"I was!" she insists. "They're just talking. Besides, they're getting along. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Jess looks away from Schmidt and back over at where Caroline and Nick are sitting together. He's leaning in close to her, to the point where their shoulders are just a few inches short of being pressed up against each other. Nick keeps smiling at his wife, his face all lit up by his bright grin. Caroline laughs at something he says, her head tilted back as she rests a hand on his knee.

It feels completely irrational that seeing the two of them together makes Jess upset. _Or is it?_ Caroline literally kicked Nick out of their home and then kept him from seeing his daughter for over a month. And now she happens to run into him at a wedding and suddenly it's all fine? It just doesn't add up. It's a pretty bitchy move, the way that Caroline strings Nick along like this, only letting him into their lives when it's convenient for her.

But now that Jess thinks about it, Caroline was definitely jealous about the way she and Nick were interacting earlier. Jealous enough that she had to go up and introduce herself to try and remind Nick that she was still an option on the table. And then when Jess and Nick were hanging out at the reception, who happened to show up again? Caroline. And of course, she had to bring up their wedding, just to rub it in Jess' face that she was still Nick's wife. It makes Jess feel like she's back in high school, trying not to stay on the good side of the popular girls so they wouldn't spread some ugly rumor about her behind her back.

"Look, maybe they're fine." Schmidt admits, and Jess tears her gaze away from the seemingly happy couple to look at him. "But leaving them on their own is just asking for trouble."

"Well," Jess hesitates. "I guess it won't hurt if I just check up on them."

"Great. Now I need you take care of this, because I _have_ to go home with Brooke tonight. Everything is riding on you, Jess."

She looks at Schmidt warily, but sets off towards Nick and Caroline, ignoring the way her legs are wobbling from the combination of her heels and her decreased circulation from the too-tight shorts. Jess manages to make it to the table without keeling over and collapses into the closest chair, which happens to be right next to Nick. Caroline looks at Jess with a tight smile, that gleam of jealously still in her eyes. She turns to Nick and sets her hand on his knee. "I'm gonna get a drink."

"I'll come with you," Nick says quickly, standing up and gesturing for Caroline to lead the way.

Jess waits until she's turned around and a few steps away before she pulls on the sleeve of Nick's jacket. "Nick, wait, no."

He sits down next to her, a confused look on his face. "Relax this is good! I may actually have a chance..."

"Nick, I'm not so sure this is a good idea," Jess says, grabbing onto his hand so he can't run off after Caroline. "I mean, don't you think this is a little sudden? I mean she kicked you out three months ago. And now suddenly everything's forgiven and peachy keen?"

"No, no, no, space was good for us!" he insists, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "Jess, don't worry. I got this!"

She tries to protest, but Nick just stands up and heads off towards where Caroline is standing just a few feet away and waiting for him. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and she's given up on being discreet and is full-on glaring at Jess. Caroline's expression shifts into something more pleasant once Nick's back at her side, and she grabs onto his arm as he leads them in the direction of the bar.

Jess stands up with every intention to chase after them, but her knees give out and she ends up collapsing back into her seat. She tries a second time, and manages to stay on her feet, but she's unsteady enough that she decides it's time to give up on the compression shorts. Thankfully she's able to make it to the bathroom without falling on her face, and she hoists herself up onto the counter of the sink to try to wiggle off the shorts. The girl Schmidt is trying to hook up with comes into the bathroom a minute later, and Jess takes the opportunity to talk up Schmidt as she cuts off her underwear. Once she's finally free and the feeling has started to return to her thighs, Jess excuses herself and goes off in search of Nick and Caroline.

She doesn't have to go very far to find them, she's just a few steps outside of the bathroom when she can hear the sound of Nick's raised voice from just around the corner. "Seeing other people? What do you mean you're seeing someone else?"

"I thought I was pretty clear, Nick," Caroline snaps back. "We're on a break. You agreed to it a month ago."

"I'm pretty sure we didn't say we were allowed to date other people. We're still _married_ , Caroline."

"I mean, it's not a big deal. He's just a guy I know from work. Nothing's happened. I wasn't even going to tell you about it, but then I saw you and Jess-"

"What!? Jess? No! No no no. Bleech. We're just friends."

Jess is standing just outside of the room they're arguing in. She's supposed to be intervening to break up their fight, but now she knows they're arguing about _her_. What is she going to do now? This wasn't a part of her emergency plan.

"Oh, come on, Nick. Don't lie. You can't say you aren't even a little curious what it's like to be with someone else? You two live together. Just admit it, you've considered it."

"What? Me and Jess?" Nick says, as if even the thought of it is absurd. Jess frowns and wrinkles her nose, because _really?_ She's not disgusting. She can't help but feel a little offended. "Nope. No way. Bleech. Never thought about it once."

Caroline huffs. "I mean, I saw the way she looks at you."

"She _what?_ " Nick says in surprise, a hint of interest in his voice. Or maybe that's just Jess projecting her feelings onto him. "No way. You're out of your mind. She looks at everybody like that."

"Jess! There you are! Have you seen Nick?" Winston says loudly as he walks towards where she's stealthily hiding behind the corner. She frantically tries to shush him, but it's too late.

Caroline steps out around the corner and sees Jess. It doesn't take long for her to connect the dots and realize that Jess has been eavesdropping on the entire conversation. She frowns, and then looks back at Nick, a dangerous look brewing in her eyes.

"Honey, I swear, there's nothing going on-" Nick tries to say, holding his palms out towards her in a placating gesture. He nervously glances over to Jess, who is still standing there frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights. Caroline seems to take Nick's lack of protest and sideways look towards Jess as definitive proof. A look of betrayal and hurt crosses over her face, but it's quickly replaced by a forced neutral expression.

"Have fun with your little girlfriend, Nick," she spits out, bitter and mean. Caroline angrily tugs off her wedding ring and shoves it into his chest. Nick stares at her in shock, his grip tight around her discarded ring. "Abbi and I are leaving."

She storms off, and the three of them watch her go in stunned silence. Jess can't help but feel like this is her fault. But at the same time, she feels like Caroline's overreacting. Nick was right; they're just friends. Even if Jess is having these weird feelings towards him, that doesn't affect their actual relationship.

"Nick?" Jess asks uncertainty after a few moments of silence.

He doesn't respond, just stares down at the gold ring sitting in his palm. "Fuck," he whispers.


	14. Stargazing

Nick gets home from the wedding and goes straight to the liquor cabinet. He wants to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible, to make this whole shitty night fade into a black blur that he won't remember in the morning. So he grabs a bottle of whiskey and crashes on the couch. He ends up drinking straight from the bottle because he forgot to grab a glass when he was in the kitchen and now that he's sitting the last thing he wants to do is get up.

Winston comes in to check on him after a few minutes, and sits down on the couch next to Nick. "You alright, man?"

Nick nods. It's pretty obvious that he's the exact opposite of 'alright.' But he doesn't want to talk about it. He wants to drink and forget, because that's his move in these situations. Thankfully, Winston seems to realize this, and he gives Nick a reassuring clap on the shoulder before heading off to his room.

About three shots later, the liquor still hasn't hit him, and Nick is still feeling far more sober than he wants to be. The disturbing and nonsensical sounds coming from Schmidt's room are escalating in volume, and Nick decides to cut his losses and relocate somewhere where he'll be completely out of earshot of whatever weird sex-thing Schmidt and Gretchen are up to. So he hoists himself up off the couch and goes off in search of a better venue.

He eventually stumbles upon the stairwell to the roof. _Oh fuck have a roof! That's a pretty cool place to get drunk._ Once he gets outside he realizes that it's a little brisk to be out here without his suit jacket. But it seems perfect right now, and he doesn't want to go all the way back down the stairs to get his coat. Besides, once the alcohol kicks in he'll be fine. He finds a spot in one of the lawn chairs that are inexplicably and randomly placed around what he thinks is some kind of astroturf. Nick reclines back on the rickety plastic of the chair and stares up at the night sky, his fingers wrapped tight around the neck of the whiskey bottle.

There's not much to see because everything is swallowed up by the bright lights of the city but Nick doesn't know enough about stars to see anything meaningful anyways. The few stars he _can_ see are still nice to look at, a handful of simple white dots in a dark expanse. They start to all blur together after a quarter of the bottle is gone, but Nick just keeps on drinking. He wished he could just stay this drunk forever. The worst thing about alcohol is the hangover the morning after. When he's actually drunk, he feels invincible. Everything just _clicks_. Everything makes sense when he's this inebriated, and suddenly all of his life problems have simple solutions, even if he can't remember them in the morning.

It's just all so shitty. He's doing his best. He's making time for Abbi. He calls her every night before bed and gets to see her every weekend. And things with Caroline had been improving. Or at least he thought they were. The way she treated him at the reception was like stepping back in time, way before this whole shitshow started. For a brief, shining moment, he was sure that he'd finally managed to fix things.

But now she hates him. Caroline doesn't want anything to do with him. Her ring is burning a hole in his pocket and part of him wants to chuck it off the side of the roof just to feel the catharsis unleashed by that single petty act of revenge. It all seems so implausible, to hope that one day he can fix all of this. He _wants_ to fix it. Wants it with his entire being. Wants it so much that it hurts.

Everything's ruined because he's an idiot. He fucked up. Again. He shouldn't have brought Jess to the wedding. He had explained it away as not wanting her to feel left out, but the fact was that he had wanted her there. He knew that if Caroline was going to be at the wedding, then he wanted Jess by his side. Having Jess there made him... not afraid. Caroline had freaked out for no reason though. She doesn't have anything to worry about; nothing is going on between him and Jess. It was just a friend asking another friend for help. They ask each other for help all the time. He even put together that dresser for her. They were just two friends going to a wedding together. It wasn't like a date or anything.

Caroline's words from earlier keep rattling around in his head. " _I saw the way she looks at you."_ It's absurd. Of course Jess doesn't think of him like that. Why would she? He's a grumpy workaholic, he takes everything too seriously, and he's never been anything special to look at. He's entirely ordinary. And Jess looks like a damn angel, but that's probably the least interesting thing about her. She's just this amazing, incredible, giving, beautiful person and she deserves someone a hundred times better than him. Not that he's ever thought about them together. He _hasn't_. He and Jess are just friends. He's not great at the talking thing, but Jess is able to bring that out of him, so he can be the guy Caroline wants him to be. He's just trying to be a better person for her, for Abbi, and Jess is just helping him do that. They're just two really good friends who live together and sometimes tell each other their deepest fears over breakfast food in the middle of the night.

"Should I be worried about you up here?" Jess' voice cuts into the silence, equal parts joking and serious.

Nick sits up. The world spins but he manages to stay upright. He's great at being drunk. No one ever thinks he's drunk, even when he's absolutely plastered. It's one of his few talents. Jess' face pulls into focus and he remembers that he's supposed to answer the question she just asked him. "Probably, to be honest."

She walks up to him. "Mind if I sit?"

He shrugs. "Sure."

Jess sits down on the chair next to his, her arms hug her torso tightly. She changed out of her purple dress and into one of her pajama outfits, a light blue one with little yellow balloons. She's wearing his hoodie again, but he doesn't mind. There's something that feels really good about seeing her in his clothes in a way he doesn't want to examine. It makes him feel all warm inside, but that's probably just the whiskey finally kicking in. He offers her the bottle, and she takes a tentative sip, pulling a face after she swallows.

"Not exactly pink wine, is it?" he teases her.

She narrows her eyes and stares him down as she takes another large swig, only wincing slightly at the burn. Nick nods in approval and she smiles back at him. He looks at her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. She's like a chameleon; every time he looks at her he sees something different. She was all dolled up earlier as Wedding Jess, but now that they're back at the loft she's Roommate Jess again, Pajama Outfit Jess. The girl who has quickly become one of the most important people in his life, although he'd never admit that sober. All that makeup she had on earlier is gone, and her face is clean and soft. She's taken out her contacts, and her glasses make her bright blue eyes look even bigger and brighter in the dim light.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah?"

Jess takes a deep breath and stares out at the city skyline. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it. And I know that she's your wife. But I think Caroline was acting like-" she hesitates before continuing, "like a real bitch tonight." Jess visibly cringes when the word leaves her mouth, and she looks quickly over at Nick to gauge his reaction. "I'm sorry, but it's true."

Nick wants to leap to his wife's defense, but he must be an asshole, because he finds himself agreeing with Jess. "Maybe," he concedes. "But maybe I deserve it."

"That's bullshit," Jess says, and Nick looks over at her in surprise. "She shouldn't have been flirting with you all night when she knew she was seeing someone else. Just because she was jealous of me doesn't mean she gets to treat you like that. And she should have believed you when you said we were just friends."

Nick likes Drunk Jess. She's direct and honest, just like Sober Jess but even more forward. She doesn't hold back or pull her punches and she's not afraid to speak her mind. It's a relief that he doesn't have to try and puzzle out the real meaning behind her words or figure out the subtext of what she's really trying to say without actually saying it. _All the damn games people play to keep from being honest._ That's the worst part of his job, and he's glad he can get away from it when he's spending time with her.

"I guess you might be a little right," he concedes.

"Of course I'm right." Jess takes another swig of whiskey. "I'm _always_ right."

He laughs, and Jess smiles at him. She offers him the bottle, and he leans forward a little too far in trying to reach for it and slips off the edge of his rickety lawn chair. Jess giggles before joining him on the floor, her shoulder pressed against his as they lean back against the side of the chair.

They sit there for a while, staring up at the stars and passing the bottle back and forth between them. Jess points out a few constellations, Andromeda and Cassiopeia, and she tells him the abridged version of the legend behind them. He's too drunk for it to make any sense, something about a vain queen and some unlucky princess who was chained to a cliff. Nick squints up at the blurry little dots in the sky and wonders how someone could take a bunch of randomly scattered stars and turn them into something meaningful. He thinks about Abbi and how bright and creative she is, and how she could probably come up with a hundred more stories that no one else could ever think up. None of that is thanks to him. He's probably missed half her life. He always knew it was a choice: Be there for her or give her that good life he never had. He couldn't have it both ways. Look how good she turned out without him there.

"I'm a bad dad," Nick admits.

Jess' face sours. "Why do you keep saying that? You're _not_. You're a great father."

He looks down at the bottle in his hands. They've finished over half of it, but he doesn't feel invincible anymore. When he looks out at the skyline he just feels incredibly small. The weight of his problems feels too big for him to carry anymore, and he's anxiously awaiting the moment he's going to collapse and be crushed by them. "When Abbi was really little I thought I had cancer," he blurts out. It's one of his deepest, darkest secrets. Something he's kept to himself, something that not even his own wife and daughter know about. Something no other living soul knows, but now Jess does. He just needed to tell somebody and his gut says he can trust her the way he can't trust anybody else in his life.

Jess inhales sharply, but she doesn't say anything. He's not sure if she's trying to polite or if she just doesn't know how to respond. He can't let that silence just hang between them so he fills it with more words, all his painful truths.

"We bought a house when I made partner at the firm. I hurt my back trying to carry a bookshelf up the stairs as we were moving in. I went to get it looked at, and the doctor noticed a weird lump on my throat." He tilts his head back and points to the spot under his jaw. Jess' eyes widen as she stares at the innocent looking patch of skin. "She gave me a pamphlet on thyroid cancer and scheduled me to get an ultrasound two days later."

Nick takes another long drink. "I was terrified. I remember sitting in the waiting room and thinking to myself: _What if it's cancerous? What if I lose my job? How are we going to pay for all this?_ "

He shakes his head and looks out to the city skyline. That time of his life feels so far away. But at the same time he can't help feeling like he's still living in the shadow of it, no matter how hard he tries to forget it ever happened. "The weird thing is, I wasn't afraid of dying. That felt like the easy part. But I was terrified about what would happen to Caroline and Abbi after I was gone. Would my daughter even remember me, or would I just be this ghost in her life that other people told her about? How would Caroline be able to cover their expenses once my life insurance payments ran out? Would they have to sell the house and move to Philadelphia to be with her parents? I didn't know how they would be able to go on without me."

"It turned out to be a false alarm. All that worrying for nothing, I guess." Nick looks down at his hands. His cheeks feel wet, and he rubs at the tears with the back of his hand. _Why does he always end up crying in front of Jess?_ He can count the number of times he's cried in front of Caroline using only one hand, and he's been with her for nearly half of his life. He's known Jess for three months. It just doesn't add up.

Jess presses her arm all the way against his, her head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. Nick stiffens for a second before relaxing. There's something incredibly reassuring about the way she's leaning on him. "I'm glad you're okay, Nick."

"Me too." He sets his hand on her knee.

A long silence stretches out between them. Jess lifts her head off his shoulder and looks at him seriously. "I worry about you sometimes."

"You do?"

"Yeah." She sighs. "You work so hard to take care of the people you love. It's incredibly admirable. But you practically tear yourself apart doing it. You don't _have_ to be miserable, Nick. There're plenty of other options on the table."

Nick pauses, trying to process what she's saying. He takes another swig of whiskey. He's never told this to anyone before. He's barely let himself consider it in his own thoughts. "I had been thinking of quitting law school, not really seriously though. I was nearly done with my third year, and the student loans were already starting to pile up. I knew that I couldn't go back, but there was some small part of me that wanted to just walk away, to leave all that responsibility behind. Maybe in another world I could have chosen that life, maybe I would have dropped out of law school to become a bartender. But I didn't."

"What changed your mind?" she asks hesitantly.

"Abbi. When Caroline found out she was pregnant she asked me if I wanted to keep it. And I said yes. There was no question in my mind. She was my daughter, so it was always going to be yes. That's when I chose this life. And I can't let Abbi down. She's my everything. I'd do anything if it meant she could live a good life."

"You don't need to martyr yourself to be a good dad," Jess says gently. "Part of being a good dad is taking care of yourself too."

It feels entirely selfish to think about himself that way at all, to put his needs above those of his family. But he supposes that Jess has a point. His actions and sacrifices over the last eleven years brought him to this rock bottom. It's not like what he's been doing has led him to the life he wants. He has a tendency to get so focused on what he thinks he needs to be doing that sometimes he misses the problems that are right in front of him.

Jess looks at him, and he can see the worry in her eyes. He wonders what she sees in him, what his tunnel vision is preventing him from noticing. "Just try and remember to take care of yourself. For me."

"No promises," he says with a reluctant sigh. She frowns at him. Nick raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, fine. Stop giving me that look. I'll give it a shot."

Jess smiles at him and bumps their shoulder together one last time. She shifts her weight back so that she's leaning on her hands instead of against him. It feels silly, but he already misses the contact, even though she's just a few inches away.

They finish the rest of the bottle, passing it back and forth until the mood between them isn't serious anymore. He tells her all of his worst 'dad' jokes, the ones that make Abbi groan and roll her eyes at him. Jess has this wonderful drunken giggle that makes him feel like he's the funniest guy on the planet, even though he's pretty sure she would crack up at just about anything he said. Once he finally gets to the punchline she tips her head back and laughs. She has a nice laugh, soft and sweet like everything else about her. Nick used to hate her laugh. He's not sure why. It's a great laugh; it always makes his chest feel lighter. He used to hate a lot of things about her. It doesn't make sense, because she's great. She's amazing and smart and funny and beautiful. He thinks she might just be the best person he's ever met.

"I like ya, Jess," Nick says, his words slurring as they fall out of his mouth because he's so drunk at this point it's almost funny. "I like ya a lot. I really do. I'm glad you're around. You're always so nice ta me."

He can't tell if he put those words in the right order, but he must have because Jess smiles at him, and _fuck_ , she has the nicest smile. It's always so genuine. Who the fuck smiles like that? Nobody he knows in LA, which is filled with snakes and liars. But Jess doesn't come from LA, does she? She says she's from Portland but she might as well be from The Moon. She probably grew up on a castle on The Moon where she learned to smile like that. He remembers when he was a kid and wanted to live on The Moon. Or Mars. He still kinda does. Life can't be all that bad if you're living among the stars. He'd have to bring Jess along with him though because the thought of going years without seeing her smile makes him sad. His chest feels all warm every time she smiles at him, the curve of her lips is so sweet and soft.

"I like you too, Nick."

Nick blinks at her slowly. His eyelids are heavy and his fingertips feel numb where they grip the sides of the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. "I'm not gonna remember any of this in morning, am I?"

"Most certainly not," she says with some kind of goofy accent. He ducks his head and chuckles at her antics. It should annoy him, but she's wearing him down. She doesn't care what anybody thinks, does she? She's always just herself. He wishes he could be that way, a little more like her, a little less like himself. There's so much about himself that he dislikes, so many ways he could be better. But Jess doesn't seem to notice all that stuff. When he looks back up at her she's wearing that bright grin of hers that makes her entire face light up.

He's drunk. He's absolutely, ridiculously, stupidly drunk. That's the reason why she looks so pretty in the moonlight. The emergency light above the entrance to the roof casts a soft shadow over half of her face. He thought he was drunk on the excessive amount of whiskey he's had tonight, but he feels like he's actually drunk on moonlight and the seemingly endless night stretching before them. He blames the moonlight for the way his heart is beating erratically in his chest, for the way his palms are sweating, for the way he can't seem to stop staring at her lips.

And then, because he's plastered and sad and an idiot, he leans forward to close the distance between them and kisses her. It's not a perfect kiss like in the movies, not by any stretch of the imagination. Their teeth knock together. His nose knocks her glasses out of place. His lips press sloppily against hers. He's really, really fucking drunk and this is a terrible, shitty kiss.

Jess freezes up against him, and Nick worries that he's crossed a line. He's about to pull away and apologize, but then her eyes flutter shut and Jess hesitantly lifts a hand to cup his jaw as she leans in towards him. She tilts the angle of her head and her lips part against his. _Alright, now they're getting somewhere_. Their lips slide against each other and there's a spark that he feels all the way down to his toes. She lets out a soft gasp when he scrapes his teeth over her lower lip, and he repeats the action just so he can hear it again. He wants to hear every little sound she could possibly make while being kissed. His skin feels like it's on fire, especially where she's touching him, her soft fingers caressing the rough stubble of his jawline. It's terrifying and exhilarating, just like he imagined it would be. Shit, now he has to admit he's thought about it. But in his dreams he never hoped to imagine that she would kiss him back.

Jess' kiss takes him by surprise. It's the kiss of someone who really wants to kiss him back. But he can't think too hard about it because he's too busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that her lips are pressed to his. He can already feel the impending consequences pressing against his conscience but he pushes them aside and just loses himself in the sensation of kissing her. Her mouth tastes kind of like licorice: sweet, but with a bite. She's hesitant at first, as if she's still unsure of herself. But then she becomes Jess again with all of her trademark enthusiasm, and when she kisses him back it takes the kiss to a whole other level. As for him, well, he's totally okay with that. He's really fucking drunk and he's never thought of himself as a particularly good kisser. He's more than happy to let her take the lead on this one.

The last time he can remember drunkenly making out with someone is back in college, when he was a sophomore and he used to crash the parties Caroline's sorority would throw on weekend nights _._ He remembers the first time he and Caroline kissed, the two of them standing in the gross, overcrowded basement of some frat house while people danced around them. He couldn't believe that Caroline was actually into him, even after he'd spent nearly a year chasing after her and trying to win her affection. There was a little too much tongue and her mouth tasted like cheap vodka and fruit punch. She grabbed at the back of his tie-dye t-shirt and he hesitantly set his hands on her hips as he tried not to think about how dry his lips were and trying to figure out if she was a tonguer or not. (The answer was a definite yes.) After a few minutes someone wolf-whistled at them and Caroline broke it off and pulled him outside, where they ended up making out in her car for four hours. She had let his hands wander the skin under her shirt and 20-year-old Nick had been convinced that it was love.

Nick dimly realizes he hasn't kissed anyone other than Caroline in nearly 16 years and when he remembers he has a _wife_ he quickly pulls away.

"I'm drunk," he says, trying to explain why he's such a shitty kisser and why he just kissed a woman who isn't the one he married.

"You're drunk," Jess repeats, a flush high on her cheeks and a dazed look in her eyes. Her fingertips come up to brush against her bright red lips, and Nick swallows nervously.

"I'm drunk," he says again, pushing himself up from the hard wooden platform they're sitting on. He sways on his unsteady legs, and for a second he worries he's going to topple over and land on top of Jess or the lawnchair she's propped up against. Jess stays seated on the floor, still dumbstruck.

Nick nods and leaves her on the roof. He stumbles down the stairs and into the loft, pushing open the door to his room and collapsing on the bed still fully dressed. He lies there on top of his comforter until he falls asleep, the taste of Jess' raspberry chapstick still lingering on his lips.

* * *

He wakes up with a killer hangover. It's par for the course in The Life of Nick Miller, but this one knocks him on his ass even harder than usual. Ugh, he hopes he didn't fuck things up even more last night. Everything hurts and his head is pounding, but Nick drags himself out of bed, squinting his eyes in an attempt to keep out the blindingly bright light from his window that is currently searing into his retinas. He staggers down the hall to the bathroom where he knocks back some pain meds with a glass of water before brushing his teeth twice in order to get rid of the bacterial forest that's growing in his mouth. It makes him feel marginally less terrible, so he heads off in the direction of food.

Jess is already sitting at the kitchen table when he walks in and he mumbles "Good morning," to her before opening the fridge.

She jumps an inch in her seat and then looks at him, her eyes wide in panic. "Hey, Nick," she squeaks.

Nick's face scrunches up in confusion, but the expression makes his face hurt so he quickly drops it and turns his attention back to the task at hand. Even thinking about eating is making him queasy, so he shuts the fridge and pours himself a cup of coffee. He sits down at the kitchen table next to Jess. She tightens her grip on her fork and pokes at a strawberry. He smiles at her and she ducks her head to stare down at her plate.

 _Did he say something to upset her last night?_ Everything after they got back from the wedding is a dark blur. He remembers the tense silence of the car ride home and retreating to the roof with a bottle of Jack Daniel's, but after that it all goes fuzzy. He bet he did something stupid. That sounds like something Drunk Nick would do.

"Hey, Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened last night?"

Jess opens her mouth and then shuts it a second later. She looks at him seriously for several long seconds. Then she takes a deep breath and says, "Nothing."

"Huh," he lets out a short uncertain huff of a laugh and smiles at her. "Okay."


	15. It didn't mean anything

"So," Jess nervously clears her throat. "Nick."

Cece delicately raises an eyebrow and takes a slow sip of her iced coffee. "What about him?"

A woman in a purple tracksuit power-walks past the cafe patio and Jess stares at the ridiculously tiny dog she's carrying to avoid her best friend's knowing look. Cece sets her drink down on the slightly rickety table and crosses her legs, the toe of her black stiletto clicking on the metal leg of her seat.

Jess can feel her heart racing, beating so fast that she's convinced that any second it's going to fly out of her chest. She's sure everyone sitting at the nearby tables can hear it. It's been a few days since the ki- since the wedding. She's been living on pins and needles, her nerves fried by the gnawing pit of guilt that's been slowly brewing in her stomach. Every time she sees Nick she starts to spiral into panic. She can barely look him in the eyes. He doesn't remember it. None of it. Especially the really important part about that night that she can't stop thinking about. The part that sends a shiver down her spine every time she remembers it.

It's driving her crazy, keeping it all bottled up inside of herself. Jess looks across the table at Cece, her best friend since middle school, the woman she trusts more than anyone else in the entire world, someone she has never kept a secret from for as long as she has known her. So she takes a deep breath and blurts out, "He kissed me."

Cece's eyes go wide in shock. Her jaw drops open as she says "What?!" She draws out the vowel, and Jess can feel her stomach sinking into the ground.

She buries her face in her hands, embarrassed and angry at herself for letting this happen in the first place. "It wasn't a big deal! He was drunk. I was drunk. We were both really drunk. And it was right after he had this huge fight with his wife. It didn't mean anything. He was just upset and I was just there."

"Well, it had to mean _something_ ," Cece says and Jess starts to panic. Of course Cece would pick up on the fact that she's developed some terribly inconvenient feelings for Nick. _Why does her best friend have to know her so well?_ They've been glued to each other's sides since middle school. They can't hide anything from each other.

"Okay, fine. It was a good kiss. I mean, we were both drunk, so it wasn't _magical_ or anything." Jess sighs, because even thinking about that night fills her with this complicated mix of guilt and twirly-ness that's terrifying. She's not this person. But she can already see herself falling into the role of The Other Woman, tumbling head over heels for some guy she shouldn't even be looking at. 3.5 billion men in the world and it has to be _him_.

Cece gives her a skeptical look.

Jess huffs. "Alright, he's a great kisser. And it kinda felt like being struck by lightning and my fingers are still tingling and I saw through space and time for a few seconds. But it doesn't matter because _he didn't remember any of it!"_

"Wait, he doesn't remember?" Cece asks in disbelief.

"No!"Jess groans, dramatically slumping back in her seat.

"Well, are you going to tell him?"

"Are you kidding me?" She sits up, shocked that Cece would even consider that within the realm of possibility. "I can't tell him! He wants to get back together with his _wife_. His wife who accused him of cheating on her with me. Which he _isn't_. Because we're just _friends_."

Cece's eyes narrow. "Was the kiss before or after she thought you two were-"

" _After,_ " she says with emphasis. "You know how I feel about cheating."

"I'm on your side there, babe. Cheating is selfish, and it is cowardly, and there is no excuse for it. The only thing that you can do is punch it in the junk," Cece says seriously, putting a terrifying emphasis on the threat. She was the one who helped Jess get her stuff back from Spencer's place, and she had quite the bone to pick with 'the asshole who had the _nerve_ to cheat on my best friend.' Jess can remember the look of sheer terror in the eyes of her awful ex-boyfriend when Cece stepped up to him. She wouldn't be surprised if he's still recovering. That cheating son of a bitch deserves it.

"I have to tell Nick," Jess decides. She tries to imagine his reaction and immediately realizes what a horrible idea that would be _._ "I can't tell Nick! I didn't even do anything wrong! Nick kissed me! I didn't even kiss him back! Okay, fine! I kissed him back! But that was just a reflex. There's no way that Nick meant it when he kissed me. He was probably just thinking about what Caroline said. He doesn't have feelings for me. It doesn't matter what I feel about him-" Jess' eyes widen when she realizes what she's said, and she frantically claps a hand over her mouth to keep anything else from spilling out.

Cece's face falls into something like pity. "Oh, babe."

"It's-" Jess struggles for the right word. "Complicated. Nick and his wife are on a 'break,' but he wants them to get back together. Even after everything she's put him through. God, she- She just treats him so _awfully_ sometimes. And I know that they must have had something good in the past, and that Nick wants to make things work for Abbi. But she kicked him out of their house and wouldn't let him see his own daughter for over a month. It practically destroyed him. And you should have seen her at the wedding. She flirted and led him on all night only to tell him that she had been seeing someone else. She made this big show out of it too, staged a yelling match in the middle of the reception and ended it by giving him her wedding ring and storming off. All because she was jealous that Nick and I were friends. It was like she was trying to get back at him for attempting to be happy."

"It sounds like you really care about him," Cece says softly, and Jess sighs. That's not even the half of it. She can practically feel herself falling for him, but she can't stop. She doesn't want to get involved in this whole mess and make things even worse for Nick. But she just can't tear herself away. Every time she tries she just ends up drifting right back to him.

"Of course I do. But it's not because of whatever you think is going on. He's my _friend_. That's all." Her voice wavers, and Cece gives her a pointed look. Jess lasts all of ten seconds before she caves. "Okay, fine. I may have a tiny, not-really-a-big-deal-at-all thing for him. But he's _married_ and he wants to get back together with his not-really-ex-wife, even though she doesn't want anything to do with him. I need to move on. Before anybody gets hurt."

"I think that's a good idea. What do you always tell me about men? If it's meant to be, it's meant to me. But for now, you need to get a little space. Put some distance between the two of you while he figures himself out. I know how you are, Jess. You always end up falling for any guy you spend too much time with. That's all this is. It's been ages since you and Spencer broke up. It's time for you to get back out there! Listen, what if you went out with me this weekend? You know, I'll fix you up, I'll take you out. I'll get you a rebound."

"I don't know, Cece..."

Her best friend is right. She's too close to the situation. Nick is her friend and roommate, and she still sees his daughter nearly every day at school. Jess can remember when the tables were turned and she was the one trying to convince Cece that things weren't going to work out with the last guy she was with. Cece had insisted that Gavin was _different_ , despite Jess frequently pointing out that he was a European DJ with a face tattoo. _Is Nick her DJ Diabeatus?_ Both of them are tired of dating the wrong men. Unavailable men who they want so badly to be something they aren't.

But that damn kiss. It was incredible. Well, as incredible as a sloppy, drunken kiss can be. Even then, it was so full of hope and promise, the need of a man who wanted her. Jess keeps catching herself replaying the kiss over and over inside her head. This could go horribly wrong in so many different ways. It's a Jenga tower already missing half its base and Jess is trying to wedge her way into the foundation. All it takes is one wrong move and the whole thing will come tumbling down. Except the consequence isn't just losing a party game, it's the fact that she'll end up destroying a family.

"Enough about me," Jess says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Tell me what's going on in _your_ life?"

Cece smiles reassuringly at her, "Oh, you know. Nothing too exciting. Dealing with the whole 'I just turned 35 and I'm suddenly too old to be a model' thing. Working at the bar."

"Right! I can't believe I keep missing your shifts," Jess groans. "I'm the worst best friend ever."

"Don't even worry about it," Cece says with a shrug. "You'd probably just end up watching Mike yell at me all night for screwing up drink orders."

"No way, sir. Next time you're working I am _there_. Text me your schedule and I'll do the rest." Jess smiles at Cece, who rolls her eyes in return. But Jess knows how big of a deal this is for her. She had really been struggling to get a hang of things at first, even resorting to coming over to have Schmidt help her practice mixing cocktails. Jess has always worried about Cece, partly because she worries about everyone in her life, but mostly because she had been there when Cece drunkenly confessed that her modelling career was going nowhere, and now she had no clue what she was supposed to do with her life. And then, like a sitcom level stroke of luck, the bar they happened to be at was hiring, and everything just fell into place from there.

"Thanks, babe."

"Of course."

The waitress comes around with their food, and Jess excitedly digs in to her powdered sugar and strawberry-covered french toast. "So how's that Australian guy you were seeing?"

"Buster? He's fine. I think. It's weird. He's just so... young. You know?"

Jess doesn't know, but she nods anyways. The biggest age gap she's ever had was less than three years. She can't imagine dating someone over a decade younger than her.

"I don't know. I don't think it's going to last all that much longer and-" Cece hesitates. "It's totally no big deal, but there's this other guy I'm kinda into."

"Wait, really? You didn't tell me about this! Who is it? Tell me all about him! I want to know _everything_. What's he look like? Where did you meet? What's the hot gossip?"

Cece blushes and stares down at her plate of eggs benedict. It strikes Jess as odd, because Cece usually isn't embarrassed by this kind of thing. She's usually so confident around men, in the way Jess only wishes she could be. She must _really_ like him. "Just this guy I met. You don't know him," she says, just a touch too quickly, which means Jess _definitely_ knows him. "And like I said, it's no big deal. It'll blow over in a week or two. It's just a fling. You know how I am."

Jess hums thoughtfully. She hopes it works out for Cece. One of them needs a win this year, and she's pretty confident that things aren't going to work out with her and Nick. And if there's anyone who deserves happiness, it's Cece. She's dying to figure out what guy has captivated her best friend so she can fan the flames a little. Lucky for Cece, she's great at matchmaking. In fact, she seems to be the Queen of Romance. Well, everywhere except in her own dating life.

* * *

It turns out that the advice " _Just give him space"_ is a lot harder to implement when the guy in question lives across the hall from her. She dances around him, avoiding any scenario where they're together for more than a few minutes, or even worse, alone in the same room. Nick doesn't seem to notice her newfound hesitancy towards him. Or maybe he does, but hasn't deemed it noteworthy enough to remark on. Jess isn't sure which one she'd prefer.

Two weeks pass and she still feels as if at any moment all of her dirty little secrets are going to spill out of her. Thankfully, Nick hasn't been hanging around the loft too often. He's been too busy with work and making the most of the little time he gets to spend with his daughter. It's almost too easy for Jess to slip right out of the picture, like she was never even there to begin with.

Jess spends more of her days either at school or hanging out with Cece, who's still putting her best effort into finding Jess a rebound. Between both of their busy schedules she's only ever seen Nick in passing, and it's probably for the best. Every date she's been on has ended in disaster, in part because the guys Cece's been trying to set her up with are pretty terrible, but also because she keeps finding herself comparing them to Nick. She's made twelve hats in the past fourteen day trying to channel all of her frustration into her knitting.

On Friday night, she gets home late. It's the last day of the grading period and she had a few last-minute assignments to finish before she could submit her final grades. Ever the overachiever, she put in the extra time to make sure she got everything submitted early. All of the other teachers always seem to wait until the very last minute, and Dr. Foster never really seems to care. But that's just one more way for Jess to distinguish herself as an ideal candidate for the Vice Principal position. At least she has the three-day weekend to look forward to.

Jess wanders into the kitchen and starts to make her dinner, and Nick joins her a few minutes later. She glances around for Schmidt or Winston, but they're nowhere to be found, leaving her all alone with Nick. This is the point where she would normally come up with some excuse to head back to her room, but she's _starving_ , and she doesn't want to wait until he's cleared out to eat something.

"Hey, Jess," he says casually. Nick pulls out a stool from the kitchen island and watches as she bustles around in the kitchen.

"That's my name. What's yours? Just kidding. I know what it is. It's Nick." She laughs nervously as she roots around in the cabinet for a box of pasta, trying to avoid meeting Nick's gaze.

"You okay?" he asks. Jess risks a side glance over at him. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's starting to turtleface.

"Yeah," she responds a touch too quickly, hoping he doesn't notice the frantic edge of her tone.

Nick's frown deepens. "You haven't looked at me once since we've been talking. I've barely seen you since the wedding. It's almost like you're avoiding me."

"Hmm?" Jess hums, her eyes carefully trained on the pot of water that's slowly coming to a boil. "I hadn't noticed."

"Look, Jess," Nick sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, okay? I can't remember what happened that night, but clearly I did something to make you upset with me, and I'm sorry."

Jess finally turns to look at him and can't help but notice the concern in his eyes. The familiar feeling of panic slowly rises in her throat. She swallows nervously. "I already told you. Nothing happened. Don't worry about it."

Nick looks at her skeptically for a moment and Jess' stomach twists. He's a perceptive guy; he wouldn't be such a successful lawyer if he couldn't tell when someone was bluffing. She's always been so honest with him, because she feels like he deserves the truth. This is the one exception to the rule, but that's only because the kiss is such a cataclysmic event. Everything he's worked so hard to recover is precariously balanced on this one tiny lie, and Jess desperately hopes that Nick trusts her enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Alright then. I believe ya."

She lets out an internal sigh of relief and turns back to the stove as she adds a handful of noodles into the boiling water. "So how's Abbi?" she asks, desperate to change the subject.

Nick's face lights up. "She's good. Really good. She just had her violin recital for the winter showcase. Here, I have a video." He fishes into his pocket for his phone and waves for her to come stand beside him.

Jess gives her pasta a stir before setting down the wooden spoon. She tentatively leans closer to Nick as he pulls up the video, and she tries to focus her attention on the little screen on his phone instead of the way they're standing so close together. The video is a little grainy and slightly shaky, but she can still see Abbi step out onto a stage along with about eight other girls her age. Abbi glances out into the audience, and then lights up when she spots her dad, giving a tiny wave in his direction. She then turns back to her teacher, a focused look coming over her face as she raises her violin up to rest on her shoulder.

The girls begin to play, and even though the song is slightly screechy, they're so sweet that it's easy to overlook any imperfections. Abbi bites down on her lower lip in concentration, and it's an exact replica of the look Nick gets when he's trying to focus on some complicated legal document. It's precious. Midway through the song Abbi has a short solo, and Jess can see Nick beaming proudly out of the corner of her eye. The recording ends as Abbi lifts her bow, a huge grin on her face as she glances back over at the camera.

"That's adorable," Jess says sincerely. "She's really good."

"Isn't she amazing?" Nick says, a huge smile still on her face. "Caroline and I are so proud of her."

"How are things with Caroline?" Jess tries to ask casually, hoping Nick won't notice the way she shuffles away from him and turns back towards the stove to avoid meeting his gaze.

"Actually, they're a lot better," he says and shuts his phone off with a soft _click_ before setting it down on the counter.

She furrows her eyebrows. "Really? Things seemed pretty-" she hesitates, trying to think of the right word. "Complicated after the wedding."

Nick nods. "Well, I told her the truth."

Jess' heart stops. _So he does remember_. She grits her teeth and tries not to hyperventilate. "You did?"

"Yeah. I told her that there's nothing going on between you and me," he says, and Jess slowly releases the breath she was holding. "I told her that I wasn't seeing anybody else and that she will always be the one I want to be with. And she believed me."

Even though she knew this was coming all along, Jess can still feel her heart sinking. It's ridiculous. She should've known this was never going to work out. This isn't some kind of Hallmark made-for-tv movie. Nick's not going to leave his wife just so he can be with her. She needs to follow Cece's advice, and actually let Nick go. What do they actually have together anyway? A couple heart-to-heart conversations and a drunken kiss that he doesn't even remember. That's all it takes for her to fall halfway in love with him. It's pathetic. Nick already has an entire life separate from her that she can never be a part of. _Wake up, Jess! It's over. It never even began!_

"Well, that's good," she murmurs, hoping that Nick won't hear the disappointment behind the words.

"Yeah. I made it just in time to the recital, and Caroline was actually a little surprised that I was able to make it. I took your advice, actually, and told her how I felt. That I've missed so much of Abbi growing up already, there's no way in hell I'm going to miss anything else. She was really happy to hear it."

"That's great, Nick," Jess manages to choke out.

He grins, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil. "It really is. We all went out afterwards to celebrate over ice cream, and it was almost like this whole mess never even happened. I think I'm winning her over. I know it's early, and I don't want to jinx it, but... I'm going to get her back. It's like you said, I just have to have a little faith that everything will work out."

Jess wants to feel happy for him. But there's that nagging feeling in her gut that says this all feels eerily similar to the wedding reception. What if Caroline is just playing with his emotions again? He's optimistic and smiling now, but is it only a matter of time before the other shoe drops? There's a little voice in the back of her head telling her that trusting Caroline is a bad idea. She learned through trial and error that her gut feeling has a tendency to be right about these kinds of things.

"But it _did_ happen," she gently points out. "Pretending like it never happened isn't going to fix the problems under the surface."

Nick frowns. "That's not what I said."

"I know!" she says quickly. "I just- I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I'll be fine, Jess. I don't need you to..."

"What?"

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "I don't know. Take care of me."

"Fine," Jess retorts sharply. She pours her dinner into a bowl and sets the dirty pot into the sink to take care of later. It rattles against the stainless steel as Jess digs around in their silverware for a fork. "I've got work to do anyways," she lies, shoving the fork into the pasta so she can carry a glass of water in her other hand. She storms out of the kitchen to eat in her room where she can be alone and away from the infuriating Nick Miller.

Jess is halfway down the hall when Nick catches up to her.

"Hey, Jess."

She spins to face him. "Hmm?"

"Look, the other night. At the wedding. Caroline said she thought you had feelings for me. She said there was a way that you looked at me." He says it like it's ridiculous, as if he can't actually believe she would actually have feelings for him. As if the idea of someone being attracted to him is inherently unrealistic. Jess' heart stutters, because Nick always sells himself so short. It's like he's the only person who doesn't see how incredible he is. She wants to tell him that, but she's afraid that once she starts, she won't be able to stop, and everything will come spilling out of her.

"She was just jealous," she answers quickly. "There was no look. It was all in her head."

"If it's something she was just saying, that's fine, that's cool, we'll move on and not talk about it. But if there's some line I've crossed or if I've led you on in some way, I just want to be adults about this and figure out where we stand with each other." Nick looks at her intently. So he _did_ notice she's been acting strangely. In his eyes, she can see confusion and maybe a little more than a hint of interest. She can see how she could change their relationship if she really wanted to.

Jess swallows. This is it. Her chance. He's giving her the opening to be honest about how she feels. This is the point where she confesses her undying affection for Nick. This is where he swears that she's the woman of his dreams, and that his marriage to his Caroline is a thing of the past. This is where she dramatically drops everything she's holding and throws herself into his arms and he takes her into a passionate embrace. This is where the lights dim and the music swells and everyone in the audience starts to get teary-eyed.

But it's not some romantic drama where any of that can happen. He's married. He's taken. His heart is never going to belong to her. So Jess swallows down whatever unrealistic confession of love that she's been rehearsing in her head since that night. "We're cool, Nick. We're just friends, who are also roommates. Roommates and friends. Roomfriends," she babbles. _God, she needs to shut up._

Nick stares at her for a long moment. He opens his mouth to say something, but then seems to think the better of it. He bites his lip and nods, seemingly satisfied. "Okay. Good. Glad that's settled."

"Yeah. Of course," Jess says definitively, before finally heading back to her room.

Love really is a drug, because she has to force herself to shut the door behind her instead of rushing back out to tell him the truth. _She lied to him_. She's always believed lying is wrong. But now she thinks there's a difference between bad lies and good lies. The bad ones are selfish, the ones you make for personal gain that end up hurting other people. Then there are the good lies. The ones that keep the world together and stop other people from getting hurt. This is one of the good ones. It means he gets to be happy. And isn't that what love is? Loving someone else more than you love yourself, doing what's best for them and putting their needs above your own. She breathes out and promises herself that she's going to let Nick go. _It's for the best._


	16. Family history

Nick sits in the hospital waiting room, his heels bouncing nervously against the linoleum floor. He's slumped over in the rickety plastic chair, wringing his hands together and clenching his teeth so hard that his jaw is starting to ache. He fumbles in his pocket for his cell phone, replaying the voicemail on his phone for the 50th time tonight.

" _It's Jess. The school has been trying to get a hold of you at work but there's only so much that the school nurse can tell your secretary so I thought I should try your cell. Um- Abbi's on her way to the hospital. I didn't see it happen, but she collapsed in the middle of recess. And then she didn't get up and she was unresponsive and wasn't breathing on her own and we had to call an ambulance and-"_ Jess takes a shaky breath. " _You should get there as soon as you can. Call me when you get this message. I'll let you know if I find out anything else."_

He shuts off the phone and pinches the bridge of his nose. Abbi regained consciousness on the ride to the hospital, but the doctor is still unsure of what could have happened. Words like epilepsy, stroke, and heart attack keep bouncing around in Nick's head until he can't think straight.

Caroline comes back from the bathroom and sits down in the chair beside him. "Anything?" she asks, her voice strained. She sounds hopeful and terrified at the same time. Her eyes are all puffy, and her makeup is smudged underneath her eyes. Nick wonders if she was actually in the bathroom or if she just didn't want anyone to see her cry.

Nick shakes his head. "They're doing an electrocardiogram or echocardiography or something like that to check her heart. Doctor said we can go back in after."

She nods and takes a shaky breath, staring straight ahead at the generic painting on the waiting room wall of a farmhouse in an abandoned field. Caroline looks so sad, so washed out in the harsh fluorescent light of the hospital. Nick reaches over and offers her his hand. To his surprise, she actually takes it. Her fingers grasp his tightly, and he gives them a reassuring squeeze. Caroline's eyes fall closed, and she lets out a long exhale, her shoulders sagging.

They fall into a tense silence that seems to stretch out into an eternity. Nick hates this waiting game, the feeling of uselessness that crawls along his skin no matter how hard he tries to shake it off. He hates that he can't do anything to fix this. Nick's never been a religious man, but he'd convert to any one in a heartbeat if it would make his daughter even marginally better. He'd do anything. He'd give up everything he has and more. But there's nothing he can do. _Nothing_. And he hates it.

"Miller?" the doctor asks, looking up from his clipboard and over towards where they're sitting. Nick jumps to his feet with Caroline right by his side, her hand still tightly clasped with his. "Dr. Sweeney," he introduces himself, and Nick shakes the hand the man offers him. The doctor motions for them to follow him down the hall. Dr. Sweeney clears his throat, rereading some medical chart Nick doesn't quite understand. "Well, her EKG looks normal, which is very promising. We're not sure about brain trauma, but given her symptoms I'm skeptical of any neurological condition." He slows to a stop and knocks gently on a door before opening it and ushering Nick and Caroline inside.

Abbi is lying on the bed and hooked up to several intimidating looking machines. The hand that isn't hooked up to some monitor is up by her face. It takes Nick a moment to realize that she's sucking her thumb, even though they had worked hard to help her kick the habit years ago. She looks small and scared and Nick can feel his heart stop. Nick lets go of Caroline's hand and steps up to Abbi's bedside. He drops down to her level and smiles at her, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, taking care not to disturb the breathing tube that's placed below her nose. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispers.

Caroline crouches down beside him, looking at Abbi with a watery smile. She takes Abbi's hand in her own, gently squeezing the fingers to avoid the IV line on the back of her hand. "How are you doing, pumpkin?"

"I'm scared," Abbi whispers, her hand falling out of her mouth and tears welling up in her eyes.

Caroline bites down hard on her lip. "It's gonna be okay."

Nick takes her other hand. "We're here, sweetheart. We're both here for you."

Abbi nods, and Caroline gently brushes a stray tear off her cheek.

The doctor clears his throat, and Nick realizes that he's been politely standing near the door while they have been busy with Abbi. He steps up to the bed and glances over at the monitor by Abbi's head. He quickly jots down a few notes onto her file before looking back at her with a reassuring smile. "Hi, Abbi. I'm Dr. Sam. We're going to make you better, does that sound like a good plan to you?"

Nick can feel Abbi's grip tighten on his hand as she nods.

"Alright," he says in a gentle tone. He lifts the stethoscope off of his neck and takes another step closer to the bed. "Let's have a listen."

Caroline shuffles out of the way, and Nick follows after her, hovering right at the head of the bed. Abbi sits up and Dr. Sweeney presses the stethoscope to her chest, listening to her heart. "No murmurs, that's a good sign." He moves the stethoscope to her back. "Go ahead and take a few deep breaths."

Abbi follows his instructions, and even Nick can hear the way she struggles to fill her lungs all the way. Dr. Sweeney gives a contemplative hum before pulling away.

"You can go ahead and lie back, Abbi." He sits on the corner of the hospital bed and scribbles something down on her chart. "Can you tell me a little bit more about what happened before you fell over?"

Abbi bites down on her lip and glances nervously over to her parents. "It was at recess. I was chasing after my friend Becca. She was running really fast and I was trying to keep up, but then my chest started hurting and my lungs felt like they were empty no matter how hard I tried to breathe. I couldn't stop coughing, and my head started to hurt and then things got all fuzzy and I couldn't see. I could kinda hear someone asking if I was okay, I tried to say I needed help, but I couldn't make the words come out. It was kinda like I was sinking in a lake: my chest felt like it was full of water, my arms were all heavy, I couldn't see anything, and when I tried to open my mouth no sound came out. Then everything went dark and when I woke up I was in the ambulance." Abbi has a iron-tight grip on her blanket, and there are tears streaming down her face. Caroline reaches over and grabs onto her hand and Nick sets his hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, pumpkin," Caroline whispers. "It's okay. You're okay."

Abbi nods and rubs at her nose with her shoulder. Her voice is so quiet Nick can barely hear it. "I thought- I thought I was going to die. It was like no matter how hard I was trying to make it to the surface, I couldn't stop drowning. I felt like I was going to sink down to the bottom of the lake and never come back up."

Caroline lets out a choked sob and presses Abbi's head into her shoulder, rubbing up and down her back. "Oh, sweetie. I'm so sorry. You're okay. I'm so glad you're okay."

After a few moments Abbi catches her breath and pulls away from her. "I'm sorry I got your shirt all snotty," she says with a hint of a laugh.

Caroline gives her a watery smile before pinching her cheek. "Don't even worry about it. I'm your mom. It's what I'm here for."

Dr. Sweeney clears his throat again. "Well, it sounds like it could be an asthma attack. Do you feel more out of breath than feels normal after you exercise?" Abbi considers the question for a moment before nodding. He makes a note before turning to Nick and Caroline. "Any family history of asthma or exposure to secondhand smoke?"

Nick shakes his head. "Neither of us smoke. And there's no one with a breathing problem on my side of the family, at least that I'm aware of."

"My older brother did," Caroline says. "Since he was really little. It was worst when we were living closer to the city, but he would always need his inhaler if he pushed himself too hard during gym class."

"It's likely genetic then," Dr. Sweeney says, pulling out a second form and filling it out. "We'll do a spirometry test to double-check, but I'm fairly confident it's exercise-induced asthma. Once we have a baseline we'll do an exercise challenge, so that way we can have a better idea of a specific treatment plan. Tentatively, we can plan on Abbi using an inhaler as needed, and we can add in additional breathing treatments with a nebulizer if she needs more regular assistance and things aren't getting better on their own. For now, I'd like to keep her overnight, just to be safe. Everything seems fine to me, but I'd like to keep an eye on her heart and make sure she didn't get a concussion when she fell."

"That... sounds fine." Nick's not quite sure he heard everything the doctor just told him, and even then he feels like he only understood half of the words he did hear. He's a lawyer, not a physician. But the important thing is that Abbi's okay. He glances over to where Abbi is still lying in the bed and chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

Dr. Sweeney shuts the file folder closed and slides the clipboard back into the slot at the foot of the bed. "Alright, Abbi. One of the nurses will come by in a little bit to do the test. It's really easy, you'll just blow into a tube that measures how strong your lungs are. It won't hurt one bit. Then tomorrow morning we'll take a look at how your lungs work when you do a few exercises. But for now, just go ahead and get some rest. You're doing really well. I think you'll get to go home tomorrow. Sound good?" Abbi nods shyly and he smiles at her before holding up his fist. "Awesome. Fist bump?"

Abbi bumps their fists together, and Dr. Sweeney makes a soft explosion noise. She giggles softly.

He turns back to Nick and Caroline. "The nurse will be around within the next hour. She'll bring some paperwork for you to fill out along with more information about childhood asthma. Abbi's prognosis looks very promising." He heads over towards the door and turns to wave goodbye to Abbi. "Take care, Abbi. I'll check in with you again tomorrow."

"Thank you, Dr. Sam," Abbi says quietly, and he gives her one last smile before leaving the room.

Caroline drags one of the plastic chairs up to the side of the bed so she can sit down next to Abbi. Nick follows her lead and leans against the plastic frame of the bed, so he's standing right beside Abbi when she leans back into the pillows.

Nick feels like he's at a loss for words. He keeps trying to come up with different things to say, but none of them sound right when he rehearses them inside his head. His daughter is amazing and brave and beautiful and he's so incredibly proud of her. But he doesn't know how to put that into words that don't feel clumsily inadequate. Whenever he attempts to say something the words get caught up in his throat.

Caroline, on the other hand, is great at this. It only takes a few moments for her and Abbi to be smiling and laughing as if nothing's wrong, even with the smell of antiseptic in the air and the sound of medical equipment softly beeping in the background. Abbi is in the middle of some story about school and Caroline knows about all the kids she mentions. She's waving her hands about as she continues excitedly, and Caroline nods enthusiastically, chiming in here and there with some addition or side topic as Abbi meanders along through her story. They have little inside jokes that they rapid fire back and forth between each other, as if they already know what the other is about to say.

He can't help but feel like he's stuck on the outside, like he's a stranger who's eavesdropping on their private conversation. Caroline's the better parent. She's the one who's been around for Abbi all these years. What has he done for them?

Abbi cranes her neck back to look up at him. "Hey, Dad," she says with a smile.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he asks, tearing himself out of his thoughts.

"Oh, nothing," she shrugs. "Just saying hey."

Nick looks at Abbi, and remembers what Jess told him. _You're her hero because you're her father and she knows you love her. And she loves you. No matter what._ He smiles as he teasingly rubs the top of her head, "Hey, Little A."

Abbi giggles and bats his hand away before attempting to straighten her hair. Caroline grins up at both of them.

There's a knock at the door and a petite woman in pink scrubs pokes her head into the room. "Hiya!" she says, a bright grin on her face. "Is Abigail Miller here?"

"That's me," Abbi says shyly.

The woman rounds the corner, a yellow file folder tucked under her arm and a small medical device in her hands. She sets them both down on the table alongside the bed and walks around to Abbi's other side. "I'm Jenn and I'm the nurse on duty tonight, so if you need anything, just call me up," the nurse points to a red square button on Abbi's bed. "Now let's take a look at your vitals, Miss Abbi."

As Nurse Jenn is measuring Abbi's blood pressure, a shrill sound echoes from somewhere on the floor. Caroline apologizes as she grabs her purse and fishes out her ringing phone. "It's my mother," she explains. "I told her I would call her when we knew more."

"Go ahead," Nick reassures her. "We'll be fine here."

Caroline nods, looking a little unsure. "I'll be right out in the hall if you need me." She waves at Abbi as she leaves the room and answers the call. "Hello? Yes. We're still in the hospital..."

He sits down in the now-empty chair, his fingers drumming restlessly on the armrest. Abbi nervously stares at the green plastic mouthpiece of the spirometer as the nurse flips open the folder and begins to write out a few notes. Nurse Jenn helps Abbi remove the breathing tube from her nose and begins to set up the spirometry test, and Nick can't help but notice the striking similarity between her and Jess. Her dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and her bangs rest on the top rim of her square glasses. She has the same bright grin and friendly attitude as Jess, the same perpetually cheery disposition. She chats with Abbi about the cartoon kittens printed on her scrubs, and ends up singing the chorus of some song that sounds vaguely familiar to Nick but Abbi knows word for word. Abbi giggles as the nurse helps her place a clip to cover her nostrils, explaining what she's doing in some silly voice that's reminiscent of one of Jess' many characters.

Jess has been acting so odd around him lately. No matter how many times she insists it isn't, he knows it has to be about whatever happened the night of the wedding. If only he could actually remember what happened or if she would at least tell him what he did, then he would be able to fix whatever went wrong between them. He wonders if this is one of those girl things where she says she's fine but she's actually harboring some deep-seated resentment to him that will be a ticking time bomb later. Caroline used to fight like that, but that was never Jess' style. She's all about honesty and open feelings.

He felt bad about calling her out the other day, about cornering her and asking point-blank how she felt about him. But he had to ask, just so he had proof that Caroline was wrong and he and Jess weren't doing anything wrong together. He doesn't know why he had felt a smidgen of disappointment at her response. Probably because he has a huge ego and something got mixed up in his head with how nice she has been to him. He doesn't know what he would have done if she said she had feelings for him. They would have had to stop being friends because Caroline would have been right. That seems like it would have been the worst outcome. He likes having her in his life and he's glad they can just continue to be friends. He doesn't have a lot of those in his life and she's a really good one. In fact, she's his best friend, second only to Schmidt. He doesn't quite know when it happened, but Jess has become such an integral part of his life that he can't imagine a world where she's not there. Whenever he's sure that he's about to fall apart, he looks to his side and finds her there. As his friend.

"Whenever you're ready!" Nurse Jenn says in her chipper voice. Nick watches as Abbi blows out a long exhale into the tube while the nurse observes the results coming up on the handheld screen. "That's great! Almost there, and now one quick inhale-" Abbi sucks in a short breath. "Great!"

They repeat the test a few more times. Nurse Jenn passionately encourages Abbi, even as she gets more tired with each attempt. After they're done the nurse writes down the results on a yellow sheet that she places in Abbi's file. "Well, you did just absolutely amazing. And if it's alright with your parents, I have a little reward for your great work."

Nurse Jenn pulls a small cup of ice cream out of her front pocket, and Abbi's eyes go wide. She glances over to Nick, a hopeful look on her face. Nick smiles. _As if he could tell her no to anything right now_. "I think you definitely earned it."

Abbi's face lights up with a huge grin, and she takes the ice cream and spoon that the nurse offers her. She peels off the top and digs in. Nick leans in to rub off a small smear of chocolate from her nose, brushing her hair back behind her ear before letting go. Nurse Jenn jots a few final notes onto the clipboard at the foot of Abbi's bed before picking up the spirometer and tucking it under her arm. "I'll come in to check on you in a little while, but go ahead and call if you need anything, alright?"

"I will," Abbi says around a spoonful of ice cream. Nurse Jenn gives her one last smile before leaving, passing by Caroline as she walks into the room at the same time.

"How's your mother?" he asks her quietly, as she pulls a second chair up next to him.

"Good," she says with a nod. "I managed to convince her not to get on the soonest plane here. She's still express-shipping a care package, though."

Nick chuckles. "Of course she is."

"Did you need to call anyone?" Caroline asks.

His mind immediately jumps to Jess, but it's still a touchy subject between the two of them. The last thing he wants is to pick another fight with Caroline, especially when their daughter is in the hospital. Although, Jess did ask him to call her back, and she's probably still worried about Abbi.

"You don't mind?" Nick asks.

"Not at all." She smiles at him.

"Alright. I'll be right back."

Nick spends nearly five minutes pacing in the hallway. _Why is he nervous?_ This seems like a pretty dumb thing to be nervous about. It's just Jess. Before he can second-guess himself he hits the call button beside Jess' name in his phone. It rings once before she picks up.

"Nick! I'm so glad you called. How's Abbi? Is everything okay?" She says quickly, before he even has a chance to say 'hello.' It's weird, because just hearing her voice on the other end of the line feels comforting to him, even with the slight edge of panic and concern in her tone.

"Yeah, yeah. She's fine." He lets out a deep exhale. "Doctor thinks it was an asthma attack, so not life-threatening."

"Oh, Nick. That's great news!"

Nick smiles down at his feet. "Yeah, yeah it is. They're keeping her overnight to make sure there's nothing wrong with her heart, but the doctor thinks she'll be able to go home tomorrow."

"That's great!" Jess exclaims, and Nick can practically hear her bright grin through the phone.

"It really is," Nick repeats, and he can feel himself grinning. All of the stress and anxiety from the chaotic 24 hours slowly leaks out of his chest, and he feels almost high on the relief.

"Well, thanks so much for calling, I'm really glad that Abbi's alright-" Jess sounds a little distracted. "I actually gotta go-"

"What's wrong, Jess?" he teases. "Ya got somewhere better to be?"

"Um," she stammers, seemingly embarrassed. "I'm actually in the middle of a date."

"Oh."

"Yeah," she lets out a short laugh. "I uh- I had to answer your call, so I told him that my friend's daughter was in the hospital, but I think that he thinks I'm trying to blow him off."

Nick tries to laugh at her joke, but it sounds fake, even to him. "Well, um. Good luck, then, I guess."

"Thanks," she says awkwardly. He can hear the muffled sound of her walking back into the bar or restaurant or wherever it is this guy took her. "Call or text me if you need anything, okay?"

"Sure." Nick tries not to feel disappointed. "Have fun, Jess."

"Bye, Nick."

He hangs up the phone.

Nick almost has to laugh at himself. It's ridiculous. Of course Jess should be out there, trying to find the right guy. It's like she told him the other day: she doesn't have any feelings for him. Besides, he's not even interested in her. He wants to be with Caroline. His _wife_. Not the girl roommate he's temporarily living with. They're friends. He's never even considered it. That would make things messy and complicated and the last thing he needs is more problems in his home life.

He gives himself a light slap on each cheek to focus, and then heads back into Abbi's room.

Abbi rides out a short sugar high, but then quickly crashes once the stress of the day finally hits her. Nick tuck her into the bed, and then he tells her his latest idea for a Pepperwood case: in which Detective Night, who used to work for Pepperwood before she went rogue to found her own private-eye office, has gone mysteriously missing. Has she been kidnapped by the target of her latest case, or is she hiding something that she doesn't want Pepperwood to find out? He leaves Abbi hanging in suspense with the promise that he'll continue the story next time, even after she complains about how unfair it is to end on a cliffhanger. Caroline shut the lights out and Abbi falls fast asleep, curled up on her side and looking even smaller in the reclined hospital bed. Nick watches the slow rise and fall of her chest that matches the display to her right.

"C'mon, sit down," Caroline says, gesturing to the chair beside her. "Your hovering is making me anxious."

Nick huffs a short laugh. He sits down in the chair and lets out a long breath, surprised by how tired he suddenly feels. Caroline gives him a look that says _I told you so_ , and Nick rolls his eyes. She laughs and settles back into her chair, crossing her legs and rubbing her palms over the knees of her jeans.

He clears his throat nervously. It's been so long since the two of them have been alone together. At least this time they haven't started screaming at each other. For now, at least. "So, um, how have you been?"

"Alright," she says, still watching the steady line of Abbi's heartbeat on the monitor.

Nick nods and bites down on his lip. "How are things with that guy from work that you're..." he trails off, hoping that he comes off as casual instead of resentful.

Caroline looks over at him, a look of confusion falling over her features. "Charlie?" she realizes, and she almost seems embarrassed. "Yeah, um. It- didn't work out."

"Oh." Nick fights the urge to fist pump in celebration. "I'm sorry." He hopes it sounds sincere.

"Don't be. It's-" she hesitates. "I didn't really want it to work out anyways."

Nick can feel his brow furrow.

"I never wanted to see other people," Caroline admits, looking down at her hands. "I- I was just upset. Seeing you and Jess at the wedding, well that hurt. I mean, you had called and left me nearly a hundred voicemails about how much you loved me, and things between us had actually been getting a little better. But then there you were flirting with this pretty girl who you brought as your date to a wedding, like it only took you a week to get over me. And I was a little jealous, and I wanted to get back at you a little bit. I know it was dumb and petty and something out of some catty high school movie, but seeing you and Jess together _hurt_."

Nick reaches over to place his hand on her arm. She leans into the contact, and looks up at him with a small smile. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't think about how you would feel about it. But there's nothing going on between me and Jess. She's just my friend."

"I know. I guess it was all in my head." Caroline sets her hand on top of Nick's and squeezes his fingers, leaning towards him to press her shoulder up against his. Nick can feel his heart stutter in his chest. He glances back over at Abbi, who is still fast asleep.

"When did she get so old?" he says in disbelief. "I feel like just yesterday we brought her home from the hospital."

"And now she's going into middle school," Caroline says with a smile. "Crazy how time flies. Only two more years and she'll be a teenager."

"Oh God," Nick groans and Caroline snickers. "Don't remind me."

"Time to face the music, Miller," she jokes. "Your little baby is all grown up."

He smiles. "She turned out alright, didn't she?"

"Yeah. We did a good job." Caroline squeezes his hand again, and Nick can feel his heart expanding in his chest.

It feels _right_. Sitting here with his wife leaning against him, watching over their daughter as she sleeps. Nick can feel that coil of tension slowly releasing inside of him, and it's like he can finally breathe for the first time in months. He's missed this. The casual intimacy between him and Caroline, being able to see Abbi and know that she's alright.

"Hey, Caroline?" he asks, his voice quiet in the dark room.

"Hmm?"

"What went wrong between us?"

"Um- are we doing this here, like now?" she stammers, shifting her weight off of his shoulder and turning to look at him.

Nick sighs. "Yeah, why did you tell me to leave?"

She takes a deep breath, her eyes flicking over his face. "Honestly I... I didn't even realize that you cared about me until after you were gone."

 _Ouch._ His natural instinct is to argue against that, but he stops himself. It hurts but it's honest. He has to accept responsibility for that, but the past is the past. They have to move forward together. Nick takes her hand in his and looks at her seriously, hoping that she can see the sincerity in his eyes. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way, Caroline. But I never stopped caring about you. I'm not just with you because of Abbi. I've always cared, ever since the beginning. Even when it was-" he struggles for the right word, "bad between us, I still cared about you."

Caroline nods, squeezing his hand before lacing their fingers together. Her gaze shifts down to his lips, and Nick can feel his heart speed up. She leans in, slow and tentative, and kisses him. It's not unlike the first time they kissed, because he's so shocked that it's actually happening that his brain short-circuits for a half second before he remembers he's supposed to kiss her back. Nick's eyes fall shut, and as he kisses his wife back, he thinks to himself _I fixed it._

* * *

He wakes up in the middle of the night with a crick in his neck and his head resting on Caroline's shoulder. It's so familiar, and for a moment he wonders if it was all a dream, some crazy fever-fueled nightmare created by the frantic stress of his upcoming deposition. But then he opens his eyes, and there's Abbi still fast asleep in the hospital bed. Nick shifts in the uncomfortable plastic chair and settles back onto Caroline's shoulder, letting the quiet whirring of the machinery lull him back to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Abbi looks brighter and closer to her normal self as she eats her breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs. She tells them about a super weird dream she had about a dog who could talk, and Nick can't help but smile at the way she tries to casually mention how cool it would be if Santa brought her a puppy this year for Christmas. A nurse comes in about an hour later to take her to a different wing of the hospital for the exercise test. He carefully removes her IV and helps her out of bed so she can change back into her clothes in the bathroom. Once she's ready to go, the nurse helps her into the wheelchair and then they're off.

Nick and Caroline linger in the hallway as Abbi goes in for the test. They watch through the window as a doctor measures her breathing and pulse before directing her to step onto the treadmill. Abbi gives them a little wave as she starts walking, and Nick smiles as he gives her a thumbs up.

"I was thinking," Caroline says, her gaze still focused on Abbi. "Maybe it's time for you to move back home. If you want to."

Nick turns to face her, because part of him still can't believe it. "Yes. _Yes_. Of course."

Caroline nods with a small smile, and she reaches over to take his hand in hers. Nick can feel a grin blooming on his face. He did it. He fixed it. After everything that happened, things are finally clicking back into place.


	17. Back to normal

Nick is midway through packing when Jess appears in his doorway.

"Hey, Nick," she says brightly. She glances around the room, taking in his stripped bed and the suitcase at his feet. "You going somewhere?"

"I'm moving out, actually," Nick says, and even he can hear the eagerness in his voice.

Jess stares at him blankly. "You're moving out of the loft?"

"Yeah. I'm going back home to Caroline and Abbi." He zips up his suitcase and looks around the room. "Hey, do you want this desk?"

Jess ignores the question, and her brow furrows in confusion. "And Caroline's okay with that?"

"Of course she is," he says, tossing his shoes into a cardboard box. "She's the one who asked me to come home."

"And wait...when did this happen?" she asks in disbelief.

"Just this morning. Abbi's getting discharged from the hospital this afternoon, and then we'll all be home together and everything will be back to normal." Nick looks up at her with a grin. "It's like this whole mess never even happened."

Jess is still frowning. "Well, it did happen. And you were _miserable_ for three months because of what Caroline did. Now suddenly you're on her good side? And you're just going to jump back into her arms?"

This isn't going the way he thought it would. He doesn't know why she's upset with him. She's being irrational and he's not in the mood to let her rain on his parade. Nick straightens up and sets his hands on his hips. "I'm sorry, I don't think I remember asking you for your opinion, _Jessica_."

She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "I just think that this is all happening pretty fast. You need to really think about this, Nick."

"Think about it? This is the only thing that's been on my mind ever since this whole disaster began," he bites back. "This is what was supposed to happen all along. Me and Caroline. It's what I want. I'm happy. What about that doesn't make sense to you?"

"Less than three weeks ago she gave you her wedding ring and told you that she was seeing someone else. _Three weeks ago_. Surely not that much has changed since then."

Nick scoffs. Sure, when you take it out of context it sounds bad. But Jess has no idea what she's talking about. She's been standing on the outside of the Miller family crisis, while he's the one who's actually been in the middle of it. Of course she doesn't get it. "Caroline didn't actually want to see other people. She just said that because she thought that you and me were together."

Jess throws her hands up in the air. "And that doesn't set off any alarm bells for you?"

"Oh, you just know everything, don't you? This is _my_ life, Jess. You don't know the half of it."

"Really? Suddenly I'm not involved in your life anymore?" she says sarcastically. "Remind me, who has been living with you for the past three months? Who has been there to support you when you needed it? Who has been returning your calls every time you have a problem? Who has been trying to help you have more contact with your daughter?" Jess ticks her points off on her fingers. "I'm the one that's actually been here for you while Caroline froze you out."

"That's not fair," he bites out. "Caroline has been with me nearly my entire life. You met me in August. Hell, if you know me so well, then you should be happy for me! This is the one thing I've wanted ever since I first crashed here. Staying at the loft was always supposed to be temporary. I wasn't moving in, I was just giving Caroline space to figure out what she needed from me. And now she's finally come around. Now I get to go back home to my family and be happy."

"But you're happy _now_ ," she insists. "You were miserable before. It was hard to watch, Nick."

"Things were different then. Now I've finally managed to fix things. I'm going to have my family back," he tries to tell her, but Jess just raises one skeptical eyebrow. It feels like she's completely missing the point. _Family_ should be the end of the argument, his trump card, but it doesn't seem to make any impression on her at all. This is a good thing. Why can't she see that?

Jess' brow furrows. "You're not seeing things clearly, Nick. I know you want to keep your family together, but ask yourself, what's really changed?"

"It doesn't matter, Jess. Things don't have to be perfect," Nick picks up the framed photo of Abbi on his desk and packs it safely away with his other paperwork. "I can make things work with Caroline. That's what's best for Abbi."

"Things will be best for Abbi if both of her parents are happy," she says sincerely. "Even if that means you and Caroline are apart."

Nick scoffs. "No kid wants their parents to be divorced. Don't try to tell me that you've never thought about your parents getting back together."

"Well, yeah," she admits. "But then I realized that was never going to happen. My parents are never going to get back together. Life isn't like _The Parent Trap_. Maybe you and Caroline just aren't meant to work out."

"Jess." Nick sighs. "Look, I know things with Caroline can get a little rocky sometimes. This isn't the first time we've fought with each other. But we make it work. We have a family together and I'm not giving up on them. I'm not going to leave just because it's hard. We make sense. And yeah, we have problems. What Caroline did back in September, it was awful. But she's changed. It was all about time, and getting some space from each other. Before I left, we weren't ready to work at it, and now we are. We're going to make this work."

She frowns at him and takes a deep breath. "You're wrong. All the stuff about Caroline? About timing and making things work just because you _have_ to? No. I know you don't want to be alone, but I'm going to be there, and I'll tell that voice in your head that says you're not good enough to shut up."

He stares at her in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about, Jess? I love Caroline. We have a kid together. We have a life together. That's where I need to be. You know what I think? I think you're just jealous. You just want to hold on to me and treat me like a charity case so that way _you_ won't be alone."

"What?!" she exclaims.

"You just think that you know everything, don't you?" Nick's voice raises in volume and he crosses his arms over his chest. "You just love to tell other people how to live their lives."

"No, I don't. I'm being honest." Jess frowns. "I'm disappointed in you. I think this is all happening really fast, and that you're jumping in without actually thinking things through. You're just upset because I'm just saying things that you don't want to hear."

"You know what I would like to hear from you?" he asks sarcastically as he jabs a finger at her chest.

She juts her chin out in defiance and crosses her arms over her chest. "What?"

"Silence." He hefts a box into his arms, and defiantly stares down at Jess as he says, "I'm moving out. I don't want your help or your pity and I definitely don't need your approval. Have a nice life, Jess."

He elbows past her and stalks out of his room. As he walks out of the loft he can hear the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut. Nick fumes and mutters to himself as he finishes packing and loading up his car. He grips the steering wheel hard as he stews in his anger over the fight.

 _Fucking know-it-all Jess. Who does she think she is?_ Nick thinks as he replays their fight over in his mind. He's not moving too fast. This is his family. He needs to be back home. Dragging out this silly argument between him and Caroline will only make things worse. He's not the one on trial here. Jess needs to back off. She just likes having him around so she doesn't feel so bad about herself. She just likes having a little 'project' to work on, like he's some piece of furniture she bought at a flea market. Well not anymore. He's glad that this chapter of his life is coming to a close. He'll probably never see Jess ever again, and that's fine by him. One less thing he'll have to worry about.

* * *

Nick pulls up into their driveway and shuts off the car. He sits there in the front seat for a few moments, just staring ahead at the house. It's so familiar that it makes his chest ache. There's a storm of anxiety already building in his stomach because he can remember the last time he walked through that door, and how everything fell apart afterwards.

"C'mon, Miller," he says to his reflection in the rearview mirror. "Man up, you clown."

He grabs his briefcase and slings his duffel bag over his shoulder. Nick stands at the door and hesitates for a few seconds, fighting off the urge to ring the doorbell. This is his house. He's not some kind of guest. Nick looks down at the keys in his hand and rubs his thumb over the rough edge of his house key. The key to the loft is still on the ring, and Nick's not quite sure why he's hanging on to it. He'd tried to give it back to Schmidt, but the other man insisted that he keep it. "Just in case," Schmidt had told him, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "Drop by anytime. _Mi casa es su casa._ Don't be a stranger." As much as Nick hates to admit it, his relationship with Schmidt is likely to fade back into what they had before this whole mess happened. He has so little free time from work and he can't afford to not spend it with his family. He'll try his best, sure, but he'd be surprised if they saw each other once or twice a year.

He gives his head a little shake before inserting his key into the lock and letting himself in. Once he's inside, he drops his suitcase off by the staircase and heads in the direction of his home office. The door is sealed tightly shut, and Nick opens it to find everything untouched. He sets his briefcase on the desk and closes the door behind him. He walks into the kitchen and there's Caroline cutting up vegetables for dinner. When Nick sets a hand on her shoulder, she reflexively leans towards his touch and presents her cheek for a kiss. Nick happily obliges her before pulling away, his hand still gently resting on her arm.

"How did everything go?" he asks.

"Good," Caroline answers as she carefully slices a tomato. "Abbi has a follow-up with a specialist scheduled for next week. There's an inhaler she needs to use twice a day, and then another to carry with her all the time in case she has another attack. She's cleared to go to school and all her other activities, but she has to rest and avoid strenuous exercise for the next week or two."

Nick hums thoughtfully. He gives Caroline another quick peck and squeezes her arm. "I'm going to get the rest of my stuff from the car."

She nods. "Alright. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen." He watches as she picks up the cutting board and slides the cut up vegetables into a salad bowl. It's familiar and comforting. _God, he missed this._ He wouldn't have thought that he would miss something so simple as watching Caroline cook.

"I love you," he says.

Caroline looks up from tossing the salad. She stares at him with a look of mild surprise. After a few seconds she smiles. "I love you, too."

Nick walks back out to the car with a ridiculous grin on his face. He balances the two remaining boxes in his arms and carefully carries them back into the house. He accidentally kicks the front door shut with a little more force than he intended, and he cringes at the loud sound of the door rattling in its frame.

"Dad!" Abbi yells from upstairs, and then comes thundering down the stairs.

"Hey, sweetheart." Nick drops the boxes on the floor and she throws herself into his arms. He laughs and hoists her up into a hug, blowing a raspberry kiss onto her cheek. Abbi shrieks and tries to push his face away from her. Nick shifts his grip on her so she's precariously balanced on his hip, ignoring the way his arms are already going noodly from holding her up. He carries her into the kitchen where Caroline is pulling out a stack of plates from the cabinet.

"Abigail," she says in her stern 'mom' voice. "What did the doctor say about running?"

Abbi pouts. "Not to."

She sighs. "Just remember that you're supposed to be resting, okay? Now could you please set the table?"

"I can't," Abbi says, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I'm supposed to be _resting_."

Caroline's eyes narrow. Nick lets out a loud laugh and sets her down on the tiled floor. "Nice try, Little A."

Abbi lets out a huff and grabs the stack of plates and silverware. "Fine."

"She gets that from you, you know." Caroline jokingly prods him with her elbow and Nick chuckles. "I don't think Santa appreciates when little girls have bad attitudes about their chores," Caroline says pointedly, and Abbi immediately straightens up and drops her grumpy attitude. Nick laughs again and grabs a beer from the fridge as Caroline turns back towards the oven to put the finishing touches on their dinner.

After they finish eating Abbi spreads out her homework on the dining room table. Nick washes the dishes while Caroline dries, occasionally leaning over Abbi's shoulder to check over her work or help her when she has trouble. Once all the dishes are done and the leftovers are packed away in the fridge, Nick pulls out some of the casework he needs to catch up on and sits down to work on it besides Abbi. Caroline smiles at the two of them and gives Nick a nod of approval before leaving them alone.

"What are you reading?" Nick asks Abbi, who has her nose deep in a book.

" _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,_ " she answers, her face still buried in the pages.

Nick's brow furrows in confusion. "I thought you already read that one."

Abbi sets her book down to look at him. "Yeah, but I'm re-reading it. I wanna make sure I didn't miss anything."

Nick hums. "Makes sense."

"What are you doing?" she asks, peering over at his stack of documents.

"Going over case documents." He shrugs. "Work stuff."

"What about?"

"Well, this one company is trying to sue the company I'm representing because they stole their idea for a new medicine. But my company says they came up with the idea first."

"Did they?"

Nick hesitates. He's fairly confident that their client, Gilead, had paid inside sources to share crucial details about the research going on at Johnson & Greenfield. But Gilead is a massive player in the pharmaceutical R&D world, and they wouldn't have made it this far if they didn't know how to cover their tracks. Johnson & Greenfield is a tiny chemisty lab with only fifteen employees, and they're representing themselves in the case. Nick is just one member in a team of highly experienced lawyers working on the Gilead case. It's basically a guaranteed win for them, even though they're likely in the wrong.

The case is the kind of thing that would have made him sick to his stomach way back when he first entered law school. He had been so naively idealistic back then, he'd thought the law meant doing what was right and that lawyers always fought for what was fair. He'd always wanted to be the one fighting for the underdog, the good guy who overcame the odds and fought back against the tyranny of The Man. Then life happened. He's become the guy he always hated. But that's not what he wants his daughter to think of him.

"That's what I'm trying to figure that out," he answers vaguely. Abbi nods thoughtfully before turning back to her book, and Nick lets out a deep exhale. He feels bad lying to her. It feels selfish to sacrifice the truth in order to maintain that unrealistic image of himself he tries to convince her is the real him. She'll realize the truth soon enough, when she gets old enough to have her own opinions about these things. But she's still his little girl and he's still her hero. He's going to make that last as long as he can.

* * *

He tucks Abbi into bed an hour later. They continue his latest Pepperwood adventure where he left off, and he ends it on an even more dramatic cliffhanger, much to Abbi's dismay. She frowns at him, a near-perfect Miller turtleface. He laughs and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you."

"Night, Dad," she says. Abbi snuggles deeper into her blankets and pulls her stuffed bear close to her chest. "Love you too."

He smiles and gives her one last kiss before standing up. Nick shuts off the lights and carefully closes the door behind him. He creeps down the stairs and begins to unpack his things in his home office, and soon everything is back exactly how it used to be. There's still a lot of work he still needs to catch up on before tomorrow, so he stays up a few more hours trying to finish what he can.

After he's made a decent dent in his 'to-do' pile, Nick decides to finally call it a night. He grabs his duffel bag off of the staircase and carries his two boxes upstairs to the bedroom. It's pretty late, and Caroline is already fast asleep so he decides to finish unpacking in the morning. He quietly sets his things down by the dresser and sneaks into their attached bathroom to brush his teeth and change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Nick crawls into bed and settles under the covers on his side. He lies there for a moment waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. Caroline shifts in her sleep and Nick stares at her for a few moments, because part of him still doesn't believe that this is actually happening. But it makes sense. They were always going to come back to each other. This is what was meant to happen between them. Things are sliding right back into place, and it's like he never even left.

Everything is back to the way it was before. He's back at home, Caroline loves him, and he's able to be a more consistent part of Abbi's life. It's even better than before. This is good. It is. He's sure of it. It feels almost too good to be true, but that's because Jess got inside his head, and now he's second-guessing himself. But he's sure about this. 100% confident. Jess has no clue what she's talking about.


	18. Maybe Jess was right

In hindsight, it was only a matter of time before reality kicked back in.

It's Thursday. He's been home for a few days now and things are starting to fall back into their regular routine. Nick's on his way out the door of his office to meet Caroline for lunch, but Teresa stops him before he has a chance to leave.

"Ms. Meriwether wanted to see you."

"I'm actually about to take my lunch hour-"

Teresa gives him an apologetic look. "She wanted to see you _now_. It sounded urgent."

"Alright," he sighs. "I'll head up now. Thank you."

Once he's in the elevator, Nick pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Caroline. _Might be a few minutes late to lunch. Boss wants to chat. Sorry. I'll see you soon._ She responds seconds later. _Okay see you soon 3_

Nick smiles and shuts off the phone before sliding it back into his pocket. He straightens his tie in the reflection of the elevator and runs a hand through his hair, trying to squash the nervous feeling building in his gut. _Calm down. It's just your boss. No big deal._

He walks down the hall and wipes his already sweating palms on his slacks before buttoning up his suit jacket. Nick raps his knuckles on Meriwether's open door, and her head snaps over in his direction even as she continues typing something on her computer. _Why is she so intimidating?_ He thinks he never really got over that feeling he had as a kid, when he was perpetually in trouble and always getting sent to the principal's office.

"Miller, good to see you. Have a seat." She turns her attention back to her computer screen as Nick walks into the office and sits in one of the leather chairs across from her desk. After a few moments Meriwether clicks out of whatever she's working on and turns to face him, her hands steepled where they rest on her desk. "How's progress on the Johnson and Greenfield case?"

"Good," Nick nods. He's nearly caught up with the other associates on the case, but he's supposed to be taking the lead on this one. Between his days off and how he's cut down on overtime hours, he's barely managing to stay on top of his work, let alone get ahead. But family is important, and he's trying to put Abbi and Caroline first. He knew it would put him on thin ice with the other associates for not 'pulling his weight,' but he's been here for nearly a decade. He thought that he would have more time before everything caught up to him.

"Look, Miller. I'll cut to the chase." She pulls a manilla folder out of one of the towers precariously stacked on her desk and begins to flip through it. "You're falling behind."

Nick swallows and a cold shiver runs down his spine. "I apologize. I had a slight problem outside of work. I hadn't meant for it to affect my productivity. I'll come in early and make up the hours."

She looks at him for a minute and Nick can already feel the sweat pooling on his lower back. "You're one of my best lawyers, Miller. I'd hate to see something like this be the reason you slipped down the ladder."

"It _won't_ ," he emphasizes. He can't lose this. Not now. He just put his life back together. He can't have everything falling apart around him once again. "I'll make sure that it doesn't happen again."

Meriwether leans back in her chair. "You know, my father passed this firm down to me, just like his father did to him. My grandfather built this from the ground up, and I've worked hard to maintain his legacy. One of the things he told me was to always keep an eye out for the best, because those are the people who you need at your side. And you, Miller, are one of the best lawyers I've ever seen. You're the guy I want at the top."

Nick reels for a moment before his brain finally catches up to what she's saying. "I- thank you."

She nods. "I'm not going to pry into your personal life. Whatever might be happening in your life is your business, as long as it stays outside of the office. But I can't offer you a promotion if I'm not absolutely confident that you're as committed to this as I am."

"Of course."

"If you don't mind, may I be personal for a moment?" she asks suddenly. She leans back towards him and clasps her hands in front of her.

Nick looks at Meriwether in surprise. He's worked here for years, and this is the first time she's spoken to him about something other than business. Meriwether is the most intense lawyers he knows, and she's been known to strike terror in the heart of anyone who's stupid enough to stand in her way. She has a reputation of being frigid and detached, but so does every other corporate lawyer who's anybody in this business. Nick admires her and the way she's built a career and an empire around her hard work and single-minded focus. She's not the kind of person who wastes time with small talk and she doesn't mince words to preserve the feelings of anyone who's in the wrong. He shakes his head. "I don't mind."

"Now, I don't want to be presumptuous, but I was once in your shoes. My husband and I went through a fairly messy divorce about six years ago. It was devastating. But I managed to channel that anger and hurt into my work, and to be quite honest, those were the most productive months of my entire career." She pauses and takes a sip from her coffee mug. "Again, I'm not trying to assume I know what's going on in your personal life. That's your business. What I want you to know is that there's a promotion looming on your horizon. I'd hate for you to miss such an important milestone in your career because of troubles at home."

He's still reeling in shock from what she's just shared with him. It's a huge display of trust on her part. But then he really thinks about it. She was being entirely sincere, but she is a lawyer after all. This wasn't simply a meaningful heart-to-heart. It's a power play for her, a way to prove her own ability in this field and criticize Nick's recent lack of dedication to his work. She's reminding him of the potential for him to succeed while also emphasizing the threat of failure. He clears his throat and nods. "I understand."

"Good. You're a good guy, Miller. I'm looking forward to seeing you at your best."

"Of course. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answers before turning back to her computer. Nick follows her unspoken dismissal and walks out of her office.

The magnitude of their conversation hits him once he's in the elevator. He can see the two paths in front of him. One where he moves to the top of the corporate ladder. He would have an obscene salary that would ensure their family could have everything they could ever possibly want. It's one where no future is out of Abbi's grasp, the one where she never has to even think about money. Then there's the path he's on now, precariously close to losing their main source of income and everything he's worked so hard to build. This wasn't just a pep talk. He can clearly see the threat underlying everything. There's a lot to consider, but he thinks about Abbi and the choice is clear.

Nick pulls his phone out of his pocket. _Have to cancel lunch. Last minute plans at work. Sorry._

Caroline doesn't text him back.

He stays late to catch up on all his missed hours, and ends up staying well past when he had intended to leave. When Nick finally makes it out of the office with his briefcase full of paperwork, he heads home as fast as he can. Caroline and Abbi are already halfway through dinner when he walks into the dining room.

"Sorry." He shrugs out of his suit jacket and sits down at the head of the table. "Work was crazy today."

"Mm-hmm," Caroline hums. _They've had this conversation before_.

Even though it gets off to a rough start, the rest of the dinner goes relatively smoothly. Abbi's been living in the limelight after her dramatic incident at the playground a few days ago, and she prattles on about all the attention she's getting at school. Nick does his best to follow along, but he keeps getting distracted by his thoughts about work and ends up zoning out while she's in the middle of some important detail. Caroline keeps glancing in his direction with a dangerous gleam in her eye, but she doesn't say anything to acknowledge it.

After dinner Abbi runs off to her room, leaving Nick and Caroline alone in the kitchen. She washes the dishes while Nick leans against the counter beside the sink. "I'm sorry about today," he apologizes lamely.

Caroline doesn't look up from the pan she's scrubbing. "It's fine."

It's clearly not fine. He knows he messed up today, and now Caroline is clearly upset with him. This is where he should ask her again, where he should lean in and push her until she admits that she's upset. They would fight, but maybe that's better than keeping everything bottled up and letting that resentment simmer between them. His thoughts can't help drifting to Jess. He knows what Jess would do in this situation. She'd pester him relentlessly until he finally broke down and told her how he was feeling. But he's not Jess. Caroline seems content to try and forget the incident ever happened, to pretend everything is fine when it's not. They should work this out between them, but he's tired, too tired to have this fight with her tonight, so he lets it go.

"Alright," he says. He hopes she picks up on his unspoken invitation to talk to him whenever she's ready.

Nick retreats to his home office and buries himself so deep in legal documents that all the legal jargon eventually starts to run together and he completely loses track of time. He gets to the end of his stack and checks his watch. It's past 3 a.m. He stretches his arms over his head and decides to call it a night. The door to Abbi's room is already closed when he walks past it, and there's a flare of guilt in his stomach when he remembers that he had promised to continue their Pepperwood story tonight. He'll just have to catch her tomorrow night.

As he expected, Caroline is already in bed. He lies down next to her and tries not to think about how she went to bed still mad at him. Here they are, back in the same place. It really is like he never left. But he's doing the right thing: this is just the way it has to be, at least for right now. They have to make sacrifices, and that means he can't be around as much as he'd like to be. This is how it's always been. But she asked him back. That still means something. There's still something here worth saving. They're still on the same side. They'll make it work.

* * *

The days go by and things are just like they were before he left. His work hours are insane, he doesn't spend a lot of time with Abbi, and things between him and Caroline have settled into a state of frosty neutrality. She still seems upset with him, but she never tries to bring it up or talk about how she's feeling. She never asks him about how he's feeling either.

Schmidt tries to stay in contact and texts him several times a day, but Nick replies with one-word responses or nothing at all. Eventually Schmidt gives up altogether, and whatever connection they had managed to rekindle dies out. He doesn't hear from Jess at all, which is what he expected given the way things ended between them when he left. He kind of wishes she would though, even just to yell at him. He wants to apologize to her and Schmidt and Winston and everyone else he ever let down. It seems like he's always letting people down, no matter how hard to tries not to.

He feels weirdly on edge lately, like he can't relax anywhere he goes. Work is a relentless barrage of responsibilities and opportunities to prove himself to Meriwether. He has to stop and consider every move he makes, and the constant vigilance during his 12+ hour workdays leaves his brain fried and his nerves frayed. He convinces himself that in a few weeks he'll be able to scale back again, but for now he just has to power through.

Things with Caroline... aren't great. He had expected it to be a little awkward at first, but that they would go back to normal once the initial discomfort between them wore off. But they don't get better. Caroline seems content to pretend like he never even left, but the weight of their three-month fallout lingers between them, the elephant in the room that neither of them wants to acknowledge. They don't talk about anything at all, really. He bottles up all his feelings and worries and pushes them down deep in his gut, waiting for the moment when Caroline finally asks him how he's doing. He supposes that she's doing the same thing, but then again he doesn't know what's going on in her head because she won't let him in. But it's fine. They're not fighting. It's fine. This is just how marriages work. It's about lying just enough to keep the peace. That's what keeps people together. A web of well-intentioned lies and just enough of the truth to make holding on to each other worth it.

Every now and then he catches himself scrolling through his phone and hovering over Jess' number. He's probably the last person on the planet she wants to talk to. But that bubble of stress and guilt and frustration is driving him crazy and he's desperate to vent about it to someone or else he just might explode. He doesn't know what to do, because if things are back to normal, then why does he feel so shitty all the time? But what would he even tell her?

He tries practicing one morning when he's driving to work and he sounds like an idiot. " _Sorry to call ya, Jess. But I'm having a problem, and I feel like you really like when I'm, you know, I'm having a problem. Not that you, not that you like it, but, but that-that you like, you like talking about it."_

 _Yeah, right._ Like that would go down well. And anything to do with Jess is a guaranteed fight with Caroline. So he just stares at her most recent text message and fights off the urge to answer it. _Just checking in. I know how we left things wasn't great, but I do honestly hope you're happy. Call or text me if you need to. :)_

* * *

It's been a little less than two weeks since he came home, and Christmas is only a week away. One night Nick spreads their plethora of bills and receipts out on the dining room table and starts the intensive process of balancing their checkbook. Caroline comes in to join him after a while. She sits across from him and nurses a mug of tea and peers over at his carefully handwritten notes.

"Everything alright?"

Nick hums. He always gets a flare of anxiety when he looks over their expenses. A sudden spike of panic spears through his chest every time he signs the checks for their bills because he swears that he can't remember seeing that many digits the last time he paid them off. Sometimes he wishes he could throw it all in a box and shove it into the back of his closet where he keeps all the junk that he doesn't feel like dealing with. But he can't, because he has Abbi and Caroline to take care of.

"Did you want to take a look at it?" he asks Caroline. He could always use a second pair of eyes to look over his work, and it would be nice to have someone else shoulder this burden with him.

A fleeting look of panic crosses over her face. "I doubt I'd offer anything useful. You seem to have everything under control, anyways."

He clenches his jaw to keep himself from saying something stupid. Things really haven't changed at all, have they? But he's been doing this for years, their routine should be old hat by now. So why is he suddenly upset by it?

"Oh, did I tell you? Abbi's last day of school before winter break is tomorrow. It's a half-day for the kids, so they're going to have a little recital in the afternoon. I was hoping you would be able to come to support Abbi."

Nick doesn't even have to double-check his planner to know the answer. He's booked solid for the rest of the week. The only day he has off is Christmas day, and even then he's planning to put in a few hours from his home office. "I'd love to, but I've got meetings with clients and other representatives all day."

Caroline frowns. "Can't you reschedule?"

He shakes his head and her frown deepens. "I've missed enough as it is. My boss is really getting on me about missing so much work and how I've been falling behind on my casework and billable hours. I can't take any more time off that isn't already outside of business hours. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"You'll have to record it. And then maybe Abbi can give me a private concert once I get home," he offers placatingly, but she just purses her lips tightly.

"Speaking of Abbi." Caroline twirls the string of her tea bag between her fingers. "Remember that school we were looking at for her? The Willow School of Fine Arts? Well, their applications for next year open on January first, and the sooner you apply the higher your chances are of getting in."

Nick nods. "I remember us looking into it. Although tuition is pretty steep, so I'm not so sure we could swing it. Especially if I was hoping to cut down on overtime and add in more vacation days."

"Oh I'm sure we can figure out something. We always do. We have plenty of money. You worry too much." She pauses and takes another sip of her tea. "Besides, you've been working a lot lately. We might as well put that money to a good use."

"It's just a temporary thing. I'm going to scale back down in a few weeks."

"That's what you always say," she casually remarks, but Nick can hear the underlying resentment beneath her words.

He tries to let it go, he really does. But there's something about the comment that digs underneath his skin and grates against his already frayed nerves. It's a backhanded jab at his ability to be a parent, a way for Caroline to express her disdain for him without actually saying what's bothering her. Nick balls his toes up into tiny fists, but that bubble of anger he's been suppressing just keeps expanding in his chest and he can't help what slips out.

"Just say it."

Caroline's brow furrows. "What?"

"You're upset, right?" Nick snaps. "Then just tell me why. Don't do this passive-aggressive routine with me."

"I'm not doing a routine-"

He lets out a sarcastic huff of a laugh. "Oh, of course not. Everything's _fine_. Because if we just ignore what's bothering us it'll just go away on it's own, right?"

"Like you're one to talk," she responds acidically and crosses her arms over her chest. "You avoid confrontation like the plague."

"Because I don't like fighting with you." Nick frowns. "But I'm not happy. And I don't think you are either. But I don't know how to fix it or what you want me to do because we don't talk to each other about things."

"You want to know why we don't talk to each other about things? Because you're never home. And when you are home, you're locked up in your little office. You might as well not even be here."

Nick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying, Caroline."

"Are you? Because you're drifting away from us. Abbi sees you for maybe half an hour every day."

"Do you think I'm happy about that? That it's my choice to never see my own daughter? This is the sacrifice we have to make. Because our bills don't just pay themselves or whatever you think happens to them. I want Abbi to have the best life possible, to have all the opportunities I never got. And if you want Abbi to have violin lessons and go to the best private school in the district then this is what has to happen. Do you have any idea how expensive college tuition is? Or did you just assume I would figure it out?"

"Why do you worry so much about this? It's just money!"

"I've been worrying about not having enough money my entire life, Caroline! Only people who grew up with money say that," he yells. "It's important to me! And I feel like you don't appreciate everything I do to make this life possible for us."

"Well, family is important to me!" she yells back. "And I want you to actually be a part of Abbi's life, before she's grown up and gone and doesn't even remember you."

"Mom?"

Nick tears his gaze away from Caroline and spots Abbi peering around the doorframe. She looks small and worried and Nick's stomach plummets. He remembers the nights he would lie awake in his bed and try to block out the sound of his parents arguing in the other room. Abbi is chewing on her thumbnail, her bear clutched tight under her arm.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Caroline tries to put on her calm 'mom' voice, but the strain is still evident despite her even tone.

Abbi looks like she's about to cry. "Is everything okay?"

Caroline glances over to Nick and bites down on her lower lip. "Yeah. It's just grown up stuff. Your dad and I are just having a loud grown-up discussion. Let's get you back to bed, sweetheart." She takes Abbi's hand and leads her back up the stairs.

Nick's chest is tight as he watches them go, because this is all his fault. He's a horrible father. He can't win. No matter what he does. He stands up from the table and grabs his coat off the back of his chair and walks out.

* * *

He makes it as far as the porch before realizing he's an idiot. Of course he isn't going to leave. That's what his dad did. Nick might not be able to help following in his father's footsteps, but he still has the choice here. And he knows he's not a guy who walks away, no matter what his blood says. He's not his father. He sits down on the stairs leading up to their front door and stretches his legs out onto the pavement walkway. It's late, and the little cul-de-sac is empty except for the trash cans lined up on the curb. Nick shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and tries not to think about what a pathetic failure he's become.

Caroline finds him an hour later. She sits down beside him and wordlessly hands him a beer. The bottle is cold in his grip, and he clinks the neck of his bottle against the one in Caroline's hand before taking a long swig. They sit there for a while, silently staring at anything except each other as they drink their beers.

"Abbi's alright," Caroline finally says. "A little rattled, but she's fine."

Nick nods. Another few minutes pass until he finally finds the words he wants to say. "I thought that when I came back things would go back to normal. That things would be better between us and our family would be alright again. But now... I don't know what I was expecting. Was it really like this before I left?"

She shrugs. "Kinda. It wasn't always this bad, though."

"What changed?" he asks, because it doesn't make sense to him. He feels like an idiot for never noticing what happened between the two of them. "I mean, we've been together for _fifteen_ years. We wouldn't have lasted this long if we were miserable the whole time."

Caroline doesn't respond to his question. Instead she just stares down at her shoes and takes a sip of her beer.

He sighs and kicks a pebble with toe of his shoe. "I remember when we first met in college. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. When we first started dating I couldn't believe you were actually into me. I thought I was the luckiest guy in the entire world. I mean, I'd spent all of freshman year trying to get you to notice me."

She lets off a huff of a laugh. "You barely even knew me freshman year. We met because we lived in the same dorm and there was a fire alarm at like 3 a.m. You saw me from across the parking lot and then figured out my name from the tag hanging on my door. We never had a conversation that lasted longer than five minutes, but you still spent every weekend drunkenly trying to serenade me in the middle of the night. It drove me up the wall. I didn't want anything to do with you."

The corner of his mouth quirks up at the memory. "Then why did you say yes? Why did we get together?"

Caroline shrugs. "You wore me down, I guess. And I liked that you _cared_ , even if the girl you were obsessed with was just some idealized version of me." She peels off the label of her beer bottle. "But that's not who I am. And I don't know if you ever realized that. I'm not perfect. What we have together, it's not perfect. And I'm sorry it took you this long to realize that."

Nick clenches his teeth together. His knee-jerk reaction is to insist that she's wrong. Of course he knows that they aren't perfect. But she might be right. He's spent the last three months trying to get Caroline back, but the future he imagined for them is nothing like the one he actually got. He looks over and stares at her profile in the dim lighting. The porch light casts odd shadows over her face. In hindsight, they really didn't have all that much in common when they first started dating. Sometimes it had felt like Caroline wanted him to change everything about himself, and Nick had gone along with it because he thought it was for the best. They got along together, and there was something really nice about being in a relationship.

There's something else about her words that catch him off guard, because he can't remember the last time he heard Caroline say she was sorry for something. "You know, you never apologized. For suddenly kicking me out, for cutting me off from Abbi, for the whole fight at the wedding, for anything. After everything that's happened, you just tried to pretend like it wasn't anything worth talking about."

"I apologized-"

"You explained yourself," he corrects. "That's different from an apology. Telling me why you did something is different from actually feeling sorry about it."

Caroline bites down on her lower lip and turns to look at him. "You're right. I'm sorry."

It doesn't feel completely genuine, but Nick's never been very good at apologies either. He's not good at admitting he's wrong. He's not good at expressing his feelings. He's not the kind of guy who likes to talk things out, he likes to bottle it all up and shove all the problems he doesn't want to deal with into the back of his closet. It's a little ironic. All those things he's not any good at, they're the same things Caroline struggles with. Maybe that's the reason things keep falling apart between them. No matter how many times they try to force this to work, they'll just keep tripping over the same issues and having the same fights.

He finishes the last of his beer and sets the empty bottle down by his feet. "Hey, Caroline."

"Hmm?"

"A while ago, you asked me if we would still have gotten married if you hadn't been pregnant."

"I remember."

Nick stares out at the street and wrings his hands together. "What do you think?"

Caroline takes a deep breath and lets out a long exhale. "I don't think so."

"I think you're right," he admits quietly.

She looks over at him, and there's a complicated look in her eyes, some mixture of sadness and relief. His chest hurts, but it's a good kind of ache. He'd been ignoring that feeling that things weren't working in the back of his head for so long, and now that he's finally acknowledged that it's there he feels a million times lighter.

"So what do we do now?" Caroline asks.

"Well, I don't know, exactly," he admits.

"We don't have to know all the answers right away. But we'll figure it out." Caroline offers her hand to Nick, and he takes it in his. She squeezes their palms together reassuringly.

"I want to be a part of Abbi's life," Nick says seriously.

"So do I," she nods. "I want her to have both parents."

"Good."

They stay on the porch for a while. Nick stares up at the night sky and tries not to think about how he has no idea what the future holds. Tomorrow he'll sit down with Caroline and look at all their options. They'll talk about child custody, living arrangements, terms of separation, divorce legal procedures, and a hundred other things that will inevitably come up. But for now, he feels an odd sense of calm about the whole thing. So he lets out a long exhale and lets his shoulders relax and just holds Caroline's hand.


	19. Interlude

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine." Jess tucks her phone up by her shoulder as she struggles to dig her keys out of her purse. She just spent the entire cab ride from the airport trying to reassure her mother that she was okay with going home early after the holiday. Christmas was just two days ago, and she usually waits until the last week of school break to fly back home. One of the few perks of being a teacher is the long vacations. But Dr. Foster keeps casually mentioning that this is Ms. Cavatappi's last semester at Coolidge in his weekly emails. This is Jess' last chance to secure that VP spot.

"Are you sure, baby?" her mom asks for the hundredth time and Jess rolls her eyes.

She finally finds her keys and unlocks the door. She bumps it open with her hip and wheels her suitcase in after her. "Yes. I got home safe and sound. Actually, I just walked into the loft, so you don't even have to worry anymore."

"Baby, I'm always going to worry. And especially since you're all alone in that apartment for a week until the boys get back."

"Mom. I'm _fine._ " Jess drops her keys into the bowl by the door and hangs her coat up on it's hook. "Really."

"You're sure?"

" _Yes_."

"Okay..."

Jess resists the urge to groan and just hang up the phone. "I gotta go, Mom."

"Oh, alright. I love you, baby."

"Love you too, Mom. I'll see you soon. Bye."

"Bye, baby. I love you!"

He mother makes several kissing noises into the phone before she ends the call. Jess tucks her phone into her pocket and lets out a long sigh of relief. She grabs the handle of her suitcase and heads off to unpack in her bedroom. As she rounds the corner she hears the sound of someone clearing their throat and she looks up in surprise.

Nick is standing in the open doorway to his- to _Coach's_ old room. "Hey, Jess," he says with a sheepish smile.

"Nick?" she gawks. "What are you doing here? Did you forget something?"

He shrugs with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his sweatpants. "You were right. Caroline and I had something good when we were younger, but things are different now. And trying to force it to work was only making all of us miserable. So we're ending things between us. For real this time."

She stares at him, still dumbstruck. "So are you back for good?"

"If you guys will have me," he says jokingly, but Jess can hear the underlying nervousness beneath his words.

"Of course," she says sincerely, and Nick beams at her. "Oh, come here!"

Jess holds out her arms and gestures for him to step towards her. Nick begrudgingly shuffles into the hall and Jess pulls him down into a hug. She wraps her arms tight around his neck, and his hand hovers awkwardly above her before gently settling on her back. Jess rests her chin on top of his shoulder and squeezes him tightly for a few seconds before pulling away. She smiles up at him and gives his arm a soft pat.

"Merry Christmas, Jess," he says.

"Merry Christmas, you clown."


	20. New Year New Jess

"This is going to be _my_ year, Cece," Jess wheezes as they jog down the street. Everything in her body hurts. With every step she takes on the pavement, her calves are practically screaming at her to stop. It feels like her lungs are on fire. But she signed up for that 10k for charity, and she'd be damned if she didn't do it.

"You say that every year," Cece says, just as calm and collected as when they were stretching. It's not fair. She's not even sweating, but Jess looks like a drowned cat. Sometimes she genuinely hates that her best friend is a model.

Jess takes a gasping breath and tries to think over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. "I mean it this time. I'm finally going to rebound from Spencer. I'm going to move on from whatever weird crush I had on Nick. I'm going to get that promotion at work. I'll finally finish that sweater for you I promised to make. I'm learning Portuguese just like I always wanted but never got around to. There's also this woodturning class at the Recreation Center that I'm really excited for." She takes another heaving breath as they round the corner. "And I'm going to kill it at this charity run and show those kids with cancer who's the _boss_."

Cece raises a skeptical eyebrow but doesn't try to correct her slip-up. They arrive at a busy intersection and wait on the corner until the crosswalk clears. Jess takes advantage of the flow of traffic to slump over and attempt to catch her breath while Cece does a few complicated-looking calf stretches. "And I believe in you, babe. But don't put too much pressure on yourself to do _everything_. I know how you get. Now, can we please call it a day and go get smoothies?"

They've only been running for twenty minutes, and they haven't even finished a full loop yet. But she's so _tired_ and running _sucks_. They can do it tomorrow. Right now all she wants to do is lie on the couch. Besides, they did two miles today. She deserves that smoothie. "Alright, fine."

Once they have their drinks, Jess collapses into one of the patio chairs and stretches her legs out in front of her. She scoops up a dollop of whipped cream from the top of her smoothie with her finger and groans at the sugary taste. It's probably undoing all the calories she just burned while running, but she _earned_ this. She should probably be on whatever trendy new LA diet Cece is currently on, but Cece's 'healthy' kale blend looks really, really gross. Her strawberry-banana sunrise is Instagram-worthy.

"So." Jess turns to look over at her best friend. "What are _your_ New Year's resolutions?"

She groans. "I told you, Jess. I don't do resolutions. Every time I've tried I never actually get anything done and I just feel guilty about it."

"Boo! You're no fun," Jess teases her, and Cece just rolls her eyes. "Fine. What else is going on in your life? Did anything happen with that guy you liked?"

Cece blushes slightly and stares down at the table. "That was ages ago. I'm over it."

"Um, clearly you're not! C'mon, spill! I'm your _best friend_ , you can tell me _anything_."

Jess has always been an open book with Cece, but lately it feels like Cece doesn't reciprocate at all. It makes her feel a little selfish because it seems like she's always talking about herself and dumping all her problems and feelings on to Cece. Cece is an amazing listener, but Jess feels like she's been neglecting her side of the friendship since Cece hasn't been talking about what's going on in her own life. Something has definitely been going on with her lately, but it feels like Cece is being intentionally evasive in a way she's never been before. Jess is trying to be patient and not push too much until Cece is ready to share, but she wishes that Cece would put a little more trust in her sometimes.

"Look, Jess. It was just physical. That's all. We want different things." Cece takes a sip of her smoothie. "How are things with Nick?"

She frowns at the sudden change of topic, but decides to let it slide. "Well, he's back in the loft. So he's not with his wife anymore."

"Are they getting divorced?"

"I don't know." Jess stirs her straw around in her melting smoothie. "He's been really weird about it. He said things were over between them, but I don't think he knows exactly what that means yet. I think we're okay. Still friends, but the vibe is kinda weird between us."

Cece gives her a sympathetic nod. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

Jess sighs. "It's complicated. But I'm trying to move on."

"I still think that's a good idea," she says reassuringly. "Give him some time to figure himself out."

"Yeah. I know." Jess frowns and takes another drink of her smoothie. "I'm trying to get back out there, but all the guys I know are the ones I live with, which we've just ruled out. And the dates with the guys you've tried to set me up with have all ended in disaster, no offense."

Cece rolls her eyes, but Jess can tell she's joking. Well, she's 95% sure she's joking. "Well, what's left? Did you try that dating app I told you about?"

Jess blushes. "I downloaded it a while ago, but I didn't finish my profile. It's intimidating! There's too much pressure. How do I pick a good photo? What do I put in the description? I'm also not sold on this swipe right or swipe left thing. It seems so mean! Maybe it's just a good guy who takes bad photos. Maybe he's not good with words. I can't just make these snap decisions, Cece!"

"Alright, calm down, Jess." Cece holds out her hand. "Here, let me see it."

She tentatively hands over the phone, and Cece pulls up the app.

"Aw, this is a cute picture of you," she says as she swipes through Jess' half-finished profile. "This looks good so far. I don't know why you're so nervous." There's a loud trumpet noise and a guy's photo appears on the screen surrounded by little cartoon hearts. "Oh! You have a match!"

"What?" Jess peers over to look at the screen and _woah, Mother, may I?_ He's hot, like _super hot_. There's no way he'd match with her, right? "Shut your face."

Cece smiles deviously at her. "I'm gonna message him."

Jess' eyes go wide and she lunges for the phone. _She can't message him! That would make it real._ "No! Wait!" she cries and snatches it out of Cece's hand before she can finish typing.

The phone chimes and Cece cranes her neck to see. "Look, he sent you something! See, I knew you were overthinking it."

She looks down at the blue text bubble on the screen underneath a smaller version of Sam's profile picture. " _Hey ;)"_

"Oh, he totally wants to sleep with you," Cece says with a smirk.

"What?" Jess says in disbelief. "It's a winky face. It doesn't mean anything."

"Mmhm. Sure. Here, text him _Hey_ but with two 'y's."

Jess looks at her skeptically but follows Cece's instructions. Cece has always been better than her at this kind of stuff anyways. " _Heyy"_ she types back, and hits send before she has the chance to reconsider how stupid this whole thing is.

Sam messages her back after a few seconds, and Jess hurries to respond while she still has Cece on hand to help moderate. After a few messages back and forth Jess is starting to get a feel for the conversation, enough that she doesn't need Cece to re-read every message four times before sending it.

"See," Cece says encouragingly. "It's easy. You got this."

"Yeah. I got this. Year of Jess!" She grins and holds up her hand for a high-five, which Cece completes with a smile. "Now let's go run the hell out of this last lap!"

They finish their running route on pace and Jess gives Cece a sweaty hug goodbye after they stretch out. Jess takes the steps up to the loft because 10k training never stops. The burning in her chest and lungs makes her feel victorious. She grabs a bottle of water from the kitchen and heads off to her room to send Sam another message before taking a shower.

* * *

On Monday morning Jess walks into the school still riding high on her wave of New Year's motivation. She spent all weekend texting Sam. She's already thinking about making plans with him for the upcoming weekend, and she's pretty sure he's on the same page. Just the other day she went on another run with Cece, and she's already shaved a minute off her mile time. And now she's at Coolidge in her power blazer and ready to earn that promotion.

About an hour before the students begin to arrive, the teachers and staff gather in the school auditorium for the Bi-annual New Semester Kick-Off Meeting, clever name courtesy of Jessica Day. Dr. Foster spends the majority of the meeting standing at the podium and rambling on about his Christmas gift to himself.

"Last night, I rectified our budget while taking a long soak in my new Jacooz. My elbows are as soft as a baby's behind."

Jess tries to look like she's actually taking notes and refrains herself from rolling her eyes. She's the one who finished editing the budget over winter break. All Dr. Foster did was get a little of his Jacuzzi water on the front cover. But none of that matters now, because the finish line is so close that she can practically taste it. And speaking of-

"The last item on the agenda," Dr. Foster squints down at his notes. "Ah yes, the Vice Principal position. As we all know, our lovely Ms. Cavatappi is leaving us. We'll miss you, my dear."

He turns around to look at where Becky is sitting in a folding chair behind him. She smiles and blows him a kiss before waving to the rest of the staff in the audience. Dr. Foster flusters for a few moments and shuffles through his papers before clearing his throat.

"And I'm proud to announce that her position will be filled by someone who is not only capable of doing the job, but someone who consistently goes above and beyond their call of duty. Someone who I personally believe earned this job." Dr. Foster looks into the crowd and directly towards Jess. She sets her notes to the side and wipes her palms on the fabric of her skirt. _Okay, this is it. You've prepared for this. You got this. Year of Jess!_ "May I welcome onto the stage... the new Vice Principal of Coolidge Elementary... the one and only... Paul Genzlinger!"

 _Wait, what?_

Jess' jaw drops open in shock as she watches Paul walk up the steps of the auditorium stage. He gives an awkward wave towards the crowd and leans into the microphone of the podium. "Well, hello, everyone-" He's cut off by a loud feedback noise and Paul leans away from the podium with an alarmed expression. "Um, thank you, uh, Dr. Foster. It's an honor."

She still can't believe it. _Genzlinger? Genz? Really?_ _He's_ the one who earned this? Bullshit! She's been working her _ass_ off for the past _four years_ for the Vice Principal spot. This is absurd. Jess is so worked up over it that she completely tunes out the rest of the meeting and doesn't even realize that it's over until after the bell rings and the other teachers start ambling off to their classes.

There's nothing she can do for the moment, so she takes all her anger and crams it into the back of her head to unleash later. Jess pours all her excess energy into being extra cheery with her students, to the point that some of them seem genuinely afraid of how hard she's smiling. During her lunch break she overhears a few teachers gossiping about Paul's promotion. Jess usually tries to stay out of this kind of drama, but she's so freaking upset about the whole thing that she can't help but listen in on their conversation as she chews on her sandwich.

"It's no surprise that he got it," Angela whispers to one of the second grade teachers. "He's Foster's son-in-law. Easy in."

Jess fumes for the rest of the day, mulling over the facts and practicing her argument for why she's the right candidate for the position. She miraculously manages to make it through the school day without snapping and once the last bell rings she makes a beeline for Dr. Foster's office. She raps her knuckles on his door twice before letting herself in.

"Ah, Miss Day! Come in! Have a seat!" he says excitedly. "So what's on your mind?"

She sits down across from him and draws on every ounce of courage she has. "Look, Dr. Foster. I am young, I'm energetic, and I think it's about time you take advantage of me!"

He coughs nervously. "Well, this is a little awkward. I'm, uh I'm exclusively into Asian women. It's really a Kristi Yamaguchi thing. After Lillehammer-"

"I really meant professionally," she clarifies quickly and deeply regrets her earlier word choice. "I want you to take advantage of me like that."

"Oh, okay," Dr. Foster looks relieved. "My apologies."

Jess takes a deep breath and pushes through her discomfort. "I want to be Vice Principal. I deserve it. I bust my ass for this school. And I don't mean to put your decision making under fire here, but I'm far more qualified for the position than any other potential candidate and-"

"I'm going to have to stop you right there, Miss Day," he interrupts. "The decision's already been made."

"Well, I'd just like you to consider reconsidering."

Dr. Foster leans back in his chair. "If I may be honest with you, Miss Day. I had previously considered you for the position. But I need you to keep doing what you're doing now. You're too valuable in your current position to be moved into administration."

She sits there for a few seconds, completely speechless. All that extra work she's been doing was to help her move ahead. It was just supposed to be a temporary stepping stone. But instead of being rewarded for her hard work, she's going to have to shoulder even more responsibility while someone else takes the credit. "But I-"

"My mind's made up, Miss Day," he says firmly. Dr. Foster stands up and shrugs on his coat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an important meeting with my new Jacooz."

* * *

Jess scowls during her whole drive home. _The world is shit! Everything is shit!_ She slams the front door of the loft behind her and throws her stuff on the ground. Her purse hits the ground with a soft thud and her papers flutter everywhere. Jess closes her eyes, tilts her head back, and lets out the scream that she's been holding back all day.

"Are you okay?" Winston asks from the couch.

"No."

He looks at her warily. "Um, anything I can do to help?"

She lets out a long sigh. "Do you want to go get a drink?"

Winston checks his watch. "Sure."

* * *

They drive to some local dive bar, and Jess vaguely recognizes it as the one where she picked Nick up on Abbi's birthday. Winston goes to order cocktails at the bar while Jess finds them an open booth. Several rounds of drinks later and Jess is drunkenly ranting to an equally plastered Winston.

"I work so hard for that job, Winston," Jess slurs. "I fixed the computers. I did the lawn mowing. I painted over that graffiti that was all penis-y. I did _so much_. And then he gives it to _Genz?"_

" _Genz!_ " Winston parrots in disbelief.

"Yeah!" she knocks back the rest of her drink. "It's like- like- _you know_."

"Uh huh." He nods in agreement and stirs his straw around in the ice that's left in his glass. "My job _sucks_ , man."

Jess raises her empty glass to him. "I hear ya there, sister."

"I mean, it's bad enough that I have to work the night shift. My whole day is turned around, Jess. I go to bed in the middle of the afternoon. People aren't made to do that. Messes with their brains," Winston says and there's a gleam of something crazy in his eyes. "And to make things worse, my boss is a total _asshole._ White rich dudes are the worst."

"The _worst._ "

" _The. Worst."_

" _Rich white dudes are the worst!"_ Jess sing-songs and Winston cracks up. She dissolves into giggles alongside him, the two of them bent over the table of their booth and laughing drunkenly.

Winston recovers first and looks at her seriously. "You know what?"

"What?" she asks, reaching over to grab his hand at look him in the eyes.

He grips her hand in both of his. "We should quit."

" _Yes."_

"Really?" Winston says in surprise.

"Hell yeah, bitch!" Jess cheers. She lets go of Winston's hands and digs around in her purse for her phone. "Here, I'm gonna email my boss right now."

Jess' thumbs fly over the keyboard as she frantically types out a strongly worded email on her phone. Winston leans over her shoulder and cheers her on, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at her exquisite word choice the whole time. She gives it a quick read-through before dramatically pressing her thumb on the send button.

"That's right!" she cheers as she high-fives Winston. "Up yours, Dr. Foster!"

"Yeah!" Winston laughs. "Victory shots?"

Jess cheers again and they stumble up to the bar. "Year! Of! Jess!" she cries before clinking her shot glass of tequila against Winston's. The liquor burns the back of her throat but she still feels invincible, like she's on top of the world. All the wine she's been steadily drinking is finally catching up to her and the shot she just did hits her _hard_.

She sways on her feet and smiles up at Winston. "So what're we gonna to do next?"

* * *

When Jess wakes up her head is pounding and her eyelids feel like they're glued shut. She sits up slowly and looks around, trying to remember why she thought sleeping on the living room floor was a good idea when her bed is literally just around the corner. Her thoughts are swimming and she's dangerously close to throwing up all over Schmidt's chenille throw. Somewhere inside of the couch the alarm on her phone is going off. Jess roots around in the cushions to find it and shut off the high-pitched chirping. There's a groan from the other side of the coffee table and Jess peers over the edge to see Winston laying on his stomach with his face pressed into the fabric of the rug.

"Off," he moans. "Turn it off."

Jess finally finds her phone and cancels the alarm. She drops her head to rest on the couch and scrolls through her notifications. There's a voice mail from the school, and Jess tentatively hits play and holds the phone up to her ear.

" _Hello Miss Day. This is Doctor Alan Foster responding to your email correspondence. This is a formal acceptance of your resignation effective immediately. A long-term sub will be taking over your class. You are free to come pick up your things at your leisure. On behalf of the Coolidge family, I'd like to wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors."_

Oh no. Oh no no no. Last night comes flooding back to her, and Jess frantically pulls up her email. And... there it is. She cringes as she reads over it.

 _Dear *Mister Foster,_

 _Heyoo. This is Jessica Christopher Day and I'm sick of being not respected at my job so I'm done. Ooh, look what you made me do. I'm leaving. Buh bye. Good luck trying to find someone else who's willing to put up with everything you tried to scam with me. Just wait until you see all the stuff that falls apart when I'm not around to clean up the messes everyone else makes. You're gonna miss me when I'm gone._

 _Yee Haw,  
Jess_

"Oh God," she groans and throws her phone on the couch. Maybe if she can't see the messages on her phone she can pretend like she didn't get drunk and destroy her entire career. _So much for The Year of Jess._ "Please tell me this is all a terrible dream."

"Unfortunately, no." Winston says from where he's still lying on the floor. "I also quit my job last night."

Jess winces. She can vaguely remember them going to the radio station where Winston worked, but she had stayed behind in the taxi while Winston went inside. "Maybe you can get it back."

He frowns. "They would they would _not_ want me back. I burned a lot of bridges last night. Uh, stuff got weird. Stuff got racial. I used a lot of swear words. Then I got sexual-"

"You really don't have to go into detail."

Winston rolls onto his back and stands up slowly. He stretches his arms behind his back and sways on his feet. He looks like death warmed over and Jess worries about how terrible she must look. "You know, I'm just gonna go... sleep for a while."

Jess heaves herself up onto the couch and watches as Winston stumbles down the hall to his bedroom. So she doesn't work at Coolidge anymore. Well, there go her plans for the day. And the rest of the week, really. And the year. And the rest of her life. Great. Super.

She sinks back onto the couch and groans again. This is awful. She messed everything up, and now she doesn't have a job or any idea what to do next. All because she got greedy and wasn't happy with her run-of-the-mill teaching job. She's flushed it all down the toilet, just because of one drunken email.

"Oh, hey. You're alive." Nick walks into the living room dressed for work and Jess sits up on the couch. He straightens his tie and sits down beside her. "I was worried about you last night. I didn't hear you come in before I went to bed." He looks at her for a few moments and his brow furrows in concern. "Are you alright, Jess?"

She shakes her head and ignores the way her eyes are starting to water. It's all starting to sink in and she _hates_ it. "I didn't get the Vice Principal spot. They gave it to someone else. And-" She hesitates before quietly admitting, "I lost my job."

"Oh, Jess," Nick's voice is soft. "I'm sorry."

"No, no don't be sorry, Nick. I did this to myself. I didn't lose my job. I quit. I got super drunk and sent a stupid email and quit. In the middle of the school year. What kind of teacher does that? What if I never teach again?" She can feel the burn of tears behind her eyes. "I love teaching. It's who I am. What if I can't do anything else?"

"Jess, come on. I can't do anything right, and look at me. I'm kind of fine, you know?"

"That's not true," she says seriously but Nick just shrugs. "You need to stop selling yourself so short. You're great at lots of things."

"Well so are you," Nick shoots back.

She sighs and gives him a tight smile. "It's just that being a teacher was all I ever, ever wanted to do. It just... it just sucks, you know?"

"Yeah, life sucks!" he agrees and nudges her with his elbow. "And then it gets better, and then it sucks again."

"Yeah?" She laughs a little.

"And then- and then it just..."

"Sucks."

"...sucks." Nick smiles and bumps their shoulders together. "Look, this is a fresh start for you. That job, they were a bunch of clowns for not realizing how great you are. The world is your oyster, Jessica Day."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." He sets his hand on her knee reassuringly. There's slight flutter in her pit of her stomach at the casual contact but Jess tries her best to squash it. "Why don't you look into that Willow school I told you about? I was just at their open house the other night, and they're looking to hire teachers for next school year. And until then," he gives her a wry smile, "There's that new casserole place that just opened up down the street. Pretty sure they're hiring."

Jess groans and flops back on the couch. Nick just laughs and gives her knee another pat before standing up and heading out the door. She mopes around for a few hours, because what else is she supposed to do now that she's unemployed? But she quickly finds herself running out of things to do now that her day is completely empty. So she pulls out her computer and starts looking up the fancy arts school Nick told her about. And yeah, it looks _amazing_.

Maybe this is a good thing. She's still got the whole year left to turn things around. _Year of Jess_.


	21. Chicago

One of the few positives of being mostly unemployed is that Jess is home a lot more than she used to be. She didn't realize how burned out she was from her years at Coolidge. It was exhausting, always having to be 'on' and trying to please other people, always having to be the responsible one. She knows this is supposed to be her rock bottom, but instead it feels like a much needed reprieve from adulthood. Jess knows that it won't be too long before she's tired of working for minimum wage at a restaurant, and she really does want to go back to teaching eventually. But for now she's enjoying her impromptu sabbatical and the perks of not having to be an adult.

Her shifts at the Casserole Shanty are all over the place, but she's still able to spend most of her days messing around with Winston and the cat they've secretly adopted and are now hiding around the loft. In the evenings she stays up late to hang out with Nick. That usually means sitting beside him and knitting while he reads through case documents with a movie playing in the background, but she likes it. It feels cozy the way it does when two people know each other really well and don't have to say anything to enjoy each other's company. Jess knows she can be a chatterbox, but she's grown to appreciate the way Nick doesn't feel like he has to fill every empty silence between them.

One night they're sitting at the kitchen island and enjoying the free leftovers she brought home for dinner. She's in the middle of her story about how Glue-Eating Harold earned his nickname when Nick's phone rings.

"Sorry," he apologizes and flips the phone over to check the caller ID.

"Don't worry about it," she says with a wave of her hand. Nick smiles in thanks and answers the call.

"Hey, Ma. What are you doing up? Isn't it pretty late there?" Nick pauses to hear her answer and his face falls. "Could you say that again? I don't- I don't think I heard you right."

Jess' brow scrunches up in concern and she mouths " _Everything okay?"_

Nick doesn't acknowledge her question. He seems too absorbed by whatever his mom is saying on the other line. "Yeah, Ma, I'll-" he pauses to listen to what she says. "No. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it." Another pause. "Yeah. I'll get a flight out as soon as I can. Yeah. Yeah. I love you too. Bye."

He hangs up the phone and looks down at it in shock, like he's still trying to process whatever just happened.

"Are you alright?" Jess asks gently.

Nick stares at her for a second in confusion and then shakes his head slightly before answering. "Uh, my dad died. Yeah, I guess he had a heart attack. I got to go back to, uh, Chicago and, uh, go to the funeral and everything."

She's so shocked that it takes her almost a full minute to respond. "That's terrible, Nick. Wow, I'm so sorry."

He doesn't say anything back. He just sits in silence and looks blankly at his phone. Jess reaches over and grabs his wrist and Nick's head snaps up to look at her. He looks so different, open and vulnerable in a way she's only ever caught the occasional glimpse of. It shocks her every time. Nick is normally so closed off that these rare moments are even more striking in comparison to the typically tight grip he holds on his emotions.

Acting solely on instinct, Jess leans in towards him as far as she can, given that they're sitting on adjacent sides of the kitchen island. She tentatively wraps her arms around him and he drops his head down onto her shoulder. The sharp corner of the counter digs uncomfortably into her hip, but it helps to dampen the dangerous fluttering of her heart. _Now is not the time to let your dumb crush get in the way. This isn't about you; it's about him. Nick's dad just died,_ she reminds herself. _You're supposed to be getting over him, anyway._

The next hours all blur together in a frenzy. Nick seems almost entirely detached emotionally. Every now and then Jess catches him staring blankly into the distance with a vacant look in his eyes. Then after a few seconds he seems to come to, shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and refocuses on whatever's at hand.

There's a red eye flight to Chicago the next day, and the cost of the last minute ticket is nearly half of her last paycheck, but it's worth every penny. Jess manages to get the weekend off after begging her co-worker Jordan to swap out shifts with her. It's a miracle she's able to pull everything together in time, but she manages to swing it, and by Friday evening she's standing outside of the loft with her suitcase as she helps Nick load up Winston's car.

"You don't have to come along," Nick says for the hundredth time as he shoves his beat-up suitcase into the trunk.

Jess frowns down at her shoes and kicks a piece of gravel off the edge of the sidewalk. "I know. But I _want_ to. I want to be there for you."

"I'm fine, Jess. Really," he insists and hoists Schmidt's luggage up off the pavement. "Besides, you didn't even know Walt." Nick keeps using his dad's first name. Jess isn't sure if it's because they weren't close or if it's just a coping mechanism separating him from the reality of the situation. He doesn't talk about his dad a lot, or ever really. She can vaguely recall Nick mentioning Walt once or twice, just a fleeting comment here and there that was never too positive.

"Yeah, but I know you. You're my friend, and your dad just died." Jess takes a step forward and smiles reassuringly at him. "I want to support my friend."

Nick sighs and looks up at her. He looks exhausted, even more so than normal. It's almost like stepping back in time to when he first moved into the loft, from the dark bags under his clouded and distant eyes to the worn frown tugging down the corners of his lips. Jess' chest aches just looking at him. She's not sure what she can do to help. There really isn't much she can do in this situation, but she can be here. He wants to shut the world out and act like he doesn't need it, but if he does, she'll be right there standing by his side and holding his hand. He needs somebody even if he can't ask for it.

"Look, I already bought the ticket and it's too late for me to get a refund." She clicks down the handle of her suitcase and wheels it in front of Nick. "So I'm going."

He stares blankly down at the suitcase before glancing back up at Jess. A faint trace of a smile ghosts over his mouth. "Alright, fine," he says, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "But don't complain when you're bored the whole time."

"I won't." Jess grins at him and leans against the side of the car. She watches as he crams her suitcase into the complicated arrangement in the trunk. "Did you want to pick up Caroline and Abbi or are they going to meet us at the airport?" she asks, trying to casually feel out what the whole situation is.

Whatever slight glimmer of happiness slips off Nick's face and his frown falls back into place. "They're not coming."

"They're not?" Jess frowns.

"No." Nick forcefully shuts the door of the trunk with a solid _thud_. "I'm going to go get Schmidt and Winston," he mutters before breezing past Jess.

"Nick, wait!" she calls out, but he's already disappeared into the building.

Jess sighs and lets her head drop back onto the car window. She's not trying to be nosy. _She's not_. But she's worried about Nick, and she doesn't want to watch him stumble back into the same pit of misery he just managed to crawl out of. He's been holding his cards even tighter to his chest lately, and Jess desperately wants to reach out and weedle all the information out of him. It's so hard to keep her distance when he gets like this, and it's endlessly frustrating that no matter how hard to tries to push her away she always finds herself coming back to him.

The car ride to the airport is tense and awkward. Nick stares out the window at the passing streetlamps, clearly avoiding meeting Jess' gaze or even acknowledging her presence. She sits silently in the seat beside him and anxiously twiddles her thumbs. Schmidt makes his best attempt to ease the tension, but it almost makes it worse when every one of his ice breakers falls flat, leaving the car deafeningly silent.

LAX is pretty dead this time of night, so they breeze through security in no time. Jess' ticket has her seated next to Nick, but she fully expects him to swap out with one of the other guys. She doesn't mind. She knows he'll come back around to talk to her when he's ready, and she'll be there for him whenever he does. She pulls her knitting out of her bag and is a few rows into the cabling pattern of her scarf when someone clears their throat beside her.

"Is this seat taken?" Nick jokes, gesturing to the empty seat beside her, a large stack of papers shoved under his arm. He looks at her with a tired and slightly sheepish smile. It's not an apology, not yet at least, and Jess is tempted to give him the same cold shoulder he's been giving her. But then Nick sighs, and that ache in Jess' chest returns in full force.

She returns his smile. "All yours."

"Thanks." He sits down and sets down his haphazardly sorted bundle of folders and notes on the tray table, rifling through for the one he's looking for.

Jess returns to her knitting but keeps an eye on Nick, who's distractedly flipping through some complicated-looking booklet. There's a few moments of silence, and Jess waits for Nick to say something, to acknowledge the elephant in the room. But then again, this is _Nick_ : professional conflict negotiator and certified feelings avoider. It'll be years before he willingly brings it up to her himself.

"Look, Nick," she says, pushing down the anxious energy that's been tying her stomach up in knots ever since he snapped at her. "I'm sorry about earlier, okay? I'm not trying to overreach, I swear." She twists up the end of her yarn around her finger. "I'm just worried about you, with Caroline and Abbi and now your dad...I just want to make sure you're still taking care of yourself."

"Jess," Nick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Things are... It's fine. Don't worry about it."

She glances to the seats in front of them where Schmidt and Winston are politely pretending that they aren't listening to their conversation. "You're my friend, Nick. I'm gonna worry about it."

He makes his grumpy turtleface and scribbles down a note at the top of one of his papers. "I know you're trying to be supportive, but I have things under control, alright? I got this. You don't have to worry about it. Don't do that thing where you feel sorry for me. I hate when people do that. Just act normal."

Jess frowns. It's not the answer she wants from him. She opens her mouth to start pushing him about it when the in-flight intercom crackles on and interrupts her train of thought.

 _"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for flying with Delta airlines..."_

The flight attendant carries on with his overly-peppy little schtick, and Jess decides to set the issue aside to deal with later. It's like any other night in 4D. They sit in companionable silence as Jess works on her scarf and Nick goes through his paperwork. Jess tries to focus on counting her stitches, but she can't help but let her attention drift over to Nick, who's staring down at his work with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he mutters something under his breath. She catches him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye every now and then, looking more than a little overwhelmed with a growing look of panic in his eyes. Nick's hands are trembling slightly and he keeps pulling on the knot of his tie. Jess thinks he just might lose it in the middle of the plane if she doesn't do something.

Jess leans in towards him and bumps their shoulders together. "Hey," she says. "I never finished my glue story."

"Right." He smiles half-heartedly and nods. "He thought eating it would make him sticky."

She laughs at the memory. "Well he'd just seen _Spiderman-_ "

"The bad one or the Tobey Maguire one?"

They end up bickering for an hour over the importance of subtlety in acting until the flight attendant comes around to politely point out that most of the other passengers are trying to sleep. Nick apologizes to the flight attendant and then once he's gone Nick tries to blame Jess for getting both of them chewed out, which starts another whispered argument between them. It's the first time Nick looks somewhat normal since he first got the phone call. She thinks he's grateful for the distraction.

* * *

It's absolutely _freezing_ when they get to Chicago. In hindsight the first week of February is a horrible time to visit the Midwest, but it's not like they had much choice in the matter. Jess shivers in her coat as they all stand outside Nick's childhood home. Her boots crunch in the thick layer of snow on the front yard. Winston toes at a chunk of ice with the tip of his shoe while Schmidt looks around with a mild look of distress and rambles on about how the airline lost his luggage.

The house is nice, the kind of run-of-the-mill place that fits in among the others on the little cul-de-sac. Not huge and fancy, but not falling apart either. Jess squints and looks out over the splotchy patches of snow that shimmer in the morning light. There's lopsided snowman propped up against a barren tree, his crooked eyes watching out over the quiet street. She tries to imagine a younger version of Nick growing up here and chasing after a few of the neighborhood kids during a snowy day like today. But it's hard to picture him without the worry lines, deep eye bags, and cloudy aura of stress that sticks to him and makes him look perpetually tired and worn down. It's almost easier to imagine a seven year old with Nick's grumpy frown than it is to imagine a relaxed and carefree Nick.

Nick stares at the house like he's trying to make a decision, his brow furrowed in worry and jaw clenched tight. He's been jittery ever since the plane landed, nervously bouncing his knee up and down during the taxi ride to the house. Jess can feel the anxiety rolling off of him in waves, visible in his death grip on the strap of his duffel bag and the absent look in his eyes. After a few moments he shakes his head, takes a deep breath and gives himself a few slaps on each cheek. "Alright. Let's do this."

He walks up to the house with a determined expression and Schmidt following close behind him. Jess takes a step forward, but falters when she feels Winston tug on the sleeve of her jacket.

"Uh, Jess," Winston clears his throat. "I should warn you. Nick's family? Pretty crazy."

"Oh, right! I always forget that you two grew up together."

He nods. "Just- It can be a lot sometimes. So brace yourself."

Nick's family is _loud_. Walking into the house is like getting hit in the face by a brick wall of sound. There seems to be at least six different conversations happening all at once, and it throws Jess off guard as she struggles to catch up to what's happening. Nick, on the other hand, joins in effortlessly and switches from topic to topic without a second thought. The chaos seems to temporarily abate the fog of stress dampening his features and Nick actually seems to relax ever so slightly, something close to a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

An older woman with dark hair and the same brown eyes as Nick comes down the stairs. She looks exhausted and wrung-out, but she lights up when she spots Nick standing in the hallway. "Nicky!" she cries and holds out her arms.

He drops his bag to the ground and steps into her embrace. "Hey, Ma."

Mrs. Miller squeezes her son tightly. "Oh. Oh. I miss him, Nicky."

"Yeah, I know, Ma," Nick says gently.

She pulls back to look at him, brushing the nonexistent dust off the front of his white dress shirt. "That bastard was a saint. A saint. The bastard."

"I know. Come here," Nick pulls her into another quick hug. "So what still needs to get done?"

"We need to um, get the groceries," Mrs. Miller ticks off a list on her fingers, seemingly more overwhelmed with each addition. "Plan the funeral, call the paper..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Nick holds his hands up and shakes his head in disbelief. "Did you say _plan the funeral?"_

Mrs. Miller wrings her hands together nervously. "That's why you're here, Nicky. You take care of everything."

Nick's brow furrows and he frowns, that panicked look returning to his eyes. Jess turns to Winston and whispers, "Nick takes care of _everything?_ "

Winston nods. "Yeah, with Pop-Pop coming and going, Nick had to step up and be the man of the family. Pretty much takes care of all of them."

Jess looks back over at Nick in disbelief. He grinds himself down to the bone to support Caroline and Abbi, but she hadn't expected that drive to take care of people to go all the way back to his childhood. She's not quite sure how he's managed to make it this far without collapsing under the stress of constantly supporting everyone else in his life. She can't help but wonder if it's only a matter of time until he finally breaks down.

To be fair, she's the exact same way. She cares about people too much and has a hard time saying "no." But losing her teaching job has thrown everything into disarray. Now that the rug has been pulled out from underneath her she's spinning out of control and struggling to figure herself out. She doesn't want Nick to end up the same way. He needs help, even if he struggles to ask for it.

"Um, excuse me." Jess steps up next to Nick and smiles at his mother. "Hi, Mrs. Miller. I'm so sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do to help, I-"

"Who's this girl?" Mrs. Miller looks over at Nick, a look of confusion on her face.

"Oh, pardon my manners. I'm Jessica-" she holds her hand out for a handshake, but Mrs. Miller just glares at it.

"Winnie and Fat Schmidt I know." She looks over Jess' shoulder to wave at them. "Hey, boys."

"Ma, c'mon," Nick groans. "This is Jess. She's my roommate-"

"Your _roommate?_ " she exclaims and Nick cringes. "What happened to the house? And where's Caroline and Abigail? I need to see my grandbaby."

"They, uh, couldn't make it out," Nick shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks and stares down at the floor. "Actually, Ma, can I talk to you alone for a sec?"

"Of course, hon." She rests her hand on his arm and guides him towards the kitchen. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

Jess lingers awkwardly in the family room with Winston and Schmidt, scuffing the toe of her boots against the stained carpet and looking at the framed family photo tacked up on the wall by the stair landing. Nick looks like he's about ten or so, gap-toothed and grinning at the camera with his arms squeezed tight around his younger brother. He looks more than a little bit like Abbi, especially in his eyes and in his smile.

Schmidt clears his throat and looks nervously down the hall. "Do you think Nick's alright in there or-"

" _DIVORCE?!_ " Mrs. Miller's shriek echoes out of the kitchen. " _What do you mean divorce? Is this why I haven't gotten a Christmas card from you yet?"_

"I'm gonna take that as a no," Schmidt jokes, but it falls flat, leaving them standing there in an awkward silence.

Jess had known that Nick and Caroline were no longer together, but Nick has been particularly tight-lipped about the whole situation ever since he moved back into the loft. He's still spending time with Abbi, but he hasn't mentioned anything about seeing Caroline. This is the first time she's heard anything substantial about the whole situation. She had thought it was a little odd that neither of them had come along for the funeral, but now she supposes that it makes sense.

So Nick and Caroline are getting divorced. That's pretty final. It's a big deal. She supposes that it makes sense that Nick wouldn't want to share the nitty-gritty details with them, but she can't help but feel a little betrayed that Nick didn't think he could trust her with such an important event that's going on in his life.

But regardless of the fact that she's only now finding out about it, Jess is happy for him. Well, she happy that he's trying to figure out what's best for him and Caroline. This is really what's best for him in the long run, even if it really sucks in the moment. Jess really hopes that things are alright between him and Caroline. For Abbi's sake.

* * *

Mrs. Miller gives Jess the cold shoulder for the rest of the evening and glares icily at her from across the table at dinner. She turns down Jess' offer to help with the dishes with a passive aggressive, "Oh no, honey. You're a guest. You've done enough."

After dinner Jess awkwardly floats in the corner of the kitchen and nurses a mug of tea. Winston's already gone down the street to his mom's home, and Schmidt complained endlessly about jet lag before finally leaving to crash in the guest bedroom. So now Jess has nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and absolutely no clue as to what she's supposed to be doing.

Once the table's been cleared, Nick claims the space and spreads out half a dozen notebooks and piles of paper to start planning out the funeral service. His mother sits down beside him to help, which mostly involves her telling an increasingly stressed-looking Nick the laundry list of what she wants him to figure out in the next two days. The other extended family members periodically float in and out of the dining room to chip in their two cents while Nick does his best to take down notes on a legal pad that's quickly running out of space.

"Your father always wanted to have a funeral just like Elvis had." Mrs. Miller anxiously spins her wedding ring around her finger. "So that's what we're gonna give him."

Nick skeptically looks down at his notes. "A funeral like _Elvis_ had?"

Mrs. Miller nods with conviction. "That means 12 white limos and an Elvis impersonator..."

"Dad's gonna get the funeral you want him to have, okay?" he reaches over to briefly rest his hand on hers and flips over to another page. "So tell me what needs to get done, and I'll just do it."

She smiles sadly and squeezes his hand. "Oh, the eulogy. You- you'll do the eulogy, right?"

"Oh." Nick's eyes widen. He clears his throat nervously. "I don't think I should do it."

"You just say a bunch of nice stuff all in a row," Jamie yells from the living room.

"C'mon, _Law School_ ," his cousin chimes in. "You got it."

There's a brief cacophony echoing from the crowded living room as Nick's extended family egg him on. He looks to Jess with panic in his eyes.

"Nick, you have to," she says gently, ignoring the glare that his mother gives her.

He swallows and adds _eulogy_ to the bottom of the list in his scratchy handwriting. "Yeah, okay. Sure. I'll, uh-"

"That's my boy. He takes care of everything." Mrs. Miller pats his hand. There's a short pause as she looks at her son and Nick focuses on sorting out his stack of papers. "You know," she says with an attempted air of nonchalance. "Plenty of couples go through rough patches."

Nick nods absentmindedly and flips back through his pile of scribbles, chewing on his lower lip. He doesn't seem to really register what his mom is saying, too distracted by the sudden influx of responsibilities he has to take care of.

"And divorce is so permanent," she continues, fiddling with her ring again. "Sometimes it's best to take some time to really think through whether it really is the best option. Sharon told me a few months ago that couples counseling really helped her and Keith work through the difficulties they were having."

Nick sighs, his tired eyes falling shut for a moment. "Ma..."

"Well, it's just something to consider," she says shortly as she stands up from the table. The legs of her chair clatter on the tiled floor as she pushes it back quickly. Mrs. Miller gives his shoulder a quick squeeze before leaving him to his work. She passes by Jess on her way out and levels her with a stern look as she nudges her out of the way of the doorframe.

"I'm sorry," Jess says down the empty hallway, still unsure exactly what she's apologizing for or what exactly she did wrong. She's not used to people not getting along with her, and there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why Mrs. Miller is so turned against her. It's incredibly frustrating because she's not here to be a burden. She's here to support Nick. But it's hard to do when Mrs. Miller keeps pushing her away from him.

* * *

Nick disappears upstairs to get started on his to-do list, and the house slowly starts to empty out as it gets late. Mrs. Miller gets a quilt and sheet set out of the closet and makes one of the couches in the living room into a bed for Jess, even after Jess insists that she can do it herself. She awkwardly hovers by the fireplace as Mrs. Miller tucks the sheets into the cushions of the couch, a tense silence settling between them.

On the mantle are several photos depicting the various members of the Miller family over the years. A school picture where a messy-haired and gap-toothed Nick has grape juice spilled down the front of his white t-shirt. Another where Nick is standing in a brightly lit stadium in a too-big Cubs jersey grinning and pointing at the baseball field behind him with a huge thumbs-up. A mustachioed-Nick in a cap and gown holding his undergraduate diploma with his parents standing on either side. Nick and Caroline in the hospital holding a tightly-swaddled newborn Abbi, beaming proudly at the camera. There's a two-part frame near the middle with a photo of Nick's parents on their wedding day on one side and Nick and Caroline in a similar pose on the other. Nick looks just like the young Walt in his tuxedo with his hair slicked back, and he smiles at the camera with his arm wrapped around Caroline's waist.

Behind her back, Mrs. Miller clears her throat and Jess spins away from the photos to see that her 'bed' is ready.

"Thank you!" Jess smiles her brightest and cheeriest grin. "And again, thank you so much for letting me stay here. I really appreciate your hospitality. I know this is a tough time for you."

She smiles back, tight-lipped and strained around the edges. "Anything for my Nicky's little _friend_."

Jess' eyes widen and everything starts to click into place. _So that's what this is about_. "Oh! Oh, no. No. Um, Nick and I _are_ just friends."

Mrs. Miller narrows her eyes at Jess and scoffs. "Listen, I might not know exactly what you kids get up to out there in _liberal_ California, but the last time I heard from my son he was happily married. Now he comes back home with his little 'roommate' and tells me he's getting divorced. Something about that just doesn't add up."

"WIth all due respect, ma'am," Jess tries to placate her. "There's nothing going on between me and Nick."

"I've got my eye on you, girlie." She gives Jess another shrewd look before nodding and leaving Jess alone in the living room.

Jess sighs and digs her pajamas and toiletries bag out of her suitcase. She slips into the downstairs bathroom to change and get ready for bed. As she walks back to her makeshift sleeping arrangements, Jess notices there's still a light on upstairs. She creeps quietly up the stairs and finds Nick sitting in what looks like a home office as he goes through stacks of paperwork and types long strings of numbers into an old-school calculator.

She gently raps her knuckles on the door. "Hey."

Nick's head pops up from his work and he smiles tiredly at her. "Hey, Jess."

Jess crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the doorframe. She watches as Nick works with a focused intensity, not even looking at the buttons as he types in cost estimates. She's worried about him. That distant look in his eyes is back, and he seems to have bitten off a little more than he can chew. "How's it going?"

"It's going." He takes a sip from a bottle of beer and gestures to the work spread out in front of him. "I'm just trying to figure out the level of Elvis impersonator we can afford. I think a white one's out of reach."

She bites down on her lip nervously. "Is there anything I could do to help?"

He lights up and looks up at her in excitement. "The eulogy."

"Sorry?" Jess' brow furrows. _Surely she didn't hear that right._

He shuffles through his stack of papers, a dawning look of relief on his face. "Oh, that would be really helpful 'cause that's been getting in my way a little bit."

Jess frowns. "I didn't really know your dad. At all. I think that's, you know, one task I think maybe is better if you-"

"Look," Nick lets out an exasperated sigh. "I've got to figure out an Elvis theme. You know, Elvis-themed flowers and food and music all in a day. I just-" He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales heavily. "You asked if there was anything you could do, and there is."

She hesitates, because she really doesn't feel like she's the right choice for this job. She was thinking something more along the lines of picking up milk from the store or printing off programs for the service. But Nick looks so overwhelmed, and she's genuinely worried about what might happen if he gets any closer to the edge. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Yes. Thank you." Nick smiles at her, relieved. "Oh, you are the best."

"Sure, Nick." Jess reluctantly returns his smile. She chews on her lip and looks around the room, trying to sound casual, "You know, about the divorce..."

He groans and rubs at his eyes. Whatever smidge of relief he'd felt disappears and that look of clouded anxiety returns in full force. "Jess, I'm so swamped right now. I really don't have time to get into this with you."

"Yeah but... I'm just wondering if you have time to process all this."

"I'm _fine,_ Jess." Nick takes a long drink of beer. "Just- can we do this sometime later?"

"Fine. I guess I'll just uh- I'll leave you to it then," she stammers awkwardly as Nick turns back to his work. "Um, make sure you get some sleep, alright?"

He waves dismissively at her and turns back to his work. Jess frowns again and closes the door to the office behind her as she leaves the room and goes back downstairs.

Jess tosses and turns on the lumpy couch, her mind still spinning from the chaos of the day. _How is she supposed to write a eulogy for someone she's never met?_ She shouldn't have agreed to it, but it's too late to go back on her promise now. And Nick's probably still tapping away upstairs, frantically trying to pull everything together at the last minute. He doesn't need another thing on his plate. She can figure this out. She's an English teacher; she knows how to write. Tomorrow she'll do her research and just say some generalized pleasantries. No one will know the difference.

* * *

The next morning Jess tries her best to squeeze information about Walt out of the extended Miller family, but it's extremely difficult when Mrs. Miller will barely acknowledge her presence. Jamie and Bobby are no help at all. They just press her for information about Nick's divorce, which Jess knows next to nothing about. They also seem to be under the impression that she and Nick are sleeping together and Jess wastes nearly half an hour trying to convince them that isn't the case.

She tries to corner Nick, but he spends all day on the phone, haggling over prices and trying to make last-minute arrangements. In fact, she barely even sees him until that evening when he's pacing back and forth in the living room as he argues over the phone with the funeral home over the cost of the cemetery plot. "$2,000? What if it wasn't six feet under? How much for three feet?" He frowns and listens to whatever is being said on the other end of the call.

Mrs. Miller comes in from the kitchen, wringing her hands together and looking frazzled. "I've gone through half a pack of ciggie gum here. Where are we on the food? We have to have Elvis food."

"Ma, I'm making calls right now." Nick gestures to the phone.

"It's gotta be perfect," she reminds him.

Nick smiles, a frantic look in his eyes. "It's gonna be perfect," he reassures her. "You just gotta let me do it."

"If the food isn't Elvis-themed, does it matter that much?" Jess suggests.

Mrs. Miller turns to face Jess, her face reddening in anger. "You got a problem with Elvis?"

"I don't-" Jess stammers.

"No, she didn't say that," Nick says quickly and switches back to the phone. "I'm gonna have to call you back." He directs his attention back to his Ma. "No, she didn't say that. She didn't say that about Elvis."

"You don't think Elvis is important?" Mrs. Miller fumes.

"She knows Elvis is important, Ma!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Miller. He's the King." Jess tries, but Mrs. Miller is already storming out of the living room. _Great, another thing she can't do right._ Jess watches her go and sighs before turning back to Nick. "Look, Nick. I'm here to help, but I can't write this eulogy."

"Wait, what?" He looks at her in disbelief, an edge of annoyance to his voice. "I asked you to do one thing. I need you to write the eulogy."

"But I didn't know Walt-"

Nick groans and runs a hand over his face. "Nobody wants to hear what I have to say about my dad."

"It doesn't matter what you say," Jess says gently. "You just- you have to say goodbye to him."

"I'm not asking you to do too much. Just write my father's eulogy!" he yells. Jess stares at him in shock. "I need a drink."

Jess chases after him as he stalks off to the kitchen. She lingers just outside the doorway, trying to keep out of Mrs. Miller's line of fire until she has a chance to cool off. It feels more than a little like she's eavesdropping on something she's supposed to stay out of, but Nick's looking dangerously panicky and she's worried about what might happen if she lets him out of her sight for too long.

From where she's standing Jess can see Mrs. Miller's back as she angrily does the dishes, loading them into the dishwasher with a loud clatter of ceramic and silverware. Nick rummages through the fridge and sets two beers out on the counter. The fridge slams shut with a muffled thud. He leans up against the closed door, opens one of the bottles and takes a long drink.

"Nicky." Mrs. Miller frowns and scrubs at a casserole dish. "Can I be honest with you, honey?"

"Of course, Ma."

"I think you're making a mistake."

"Ma..."

"No, listen to me." She sets her dish onto the drying rack and picks out another from the soapy mess in the sink. "You're young. There's still time for you to fix whatever's going on between you and Caroline. And whatever you have with that little Spanish girl might seem new and exciting for now but-"

"Is that why you've been upset with Jess?" Nick sounds exasperated. "Ma, there's nothing there. _Nothing_." He runs his hand through his hair in disbelief and mutters to himself, "Why don't people understand that?"

"Then what is it? Why are you giving up on Caroline?"

Nick looks down at the tiled floor with a pained expression. "It's not like that-"

"You two have a family together." Mrs. Miller rinses off the second dish and sets it into the dishwasher. "Don't you know what this will do to Abbi? You want her to grow up in a broken home? You're not even going to try for _her_ sake?"

He sighs. "We tried, Ma. And it just wasn't working."

"Well, then try harder," she says firmly. "Miller families don't get divorced. They don't. They make do. They make it work. They don't just throw away years of hard work and commitment for some floozy with weirdly huge eyes. No one ever said marriage was easy." There's a complicated undercurrent to her words, something like remorse or frustration, but not all of it actually seems directed towards Nick. She flips on the garbage disposal and the loud noise rings in the tiny kitchen. "Doesn't family mean anything to you?"

"Ma, family means _everything_ to me. You know that."

"You're not acting like it." She turns to face him, her hands on her hips. "You're giving up on them."

Nick knocks back the rest of his beer and then sets the bottle down on the counter. "You know, Ma, I gotta go check on something."

"Nicky..." Mrs. Miller tries soothingly, but Nick's already storming out of the kitchen. She spots Jess lingering in the doorway as she watches her son leave. The look she gives Jess is less than an inch short of murderous.

"Nick," Jess calls as he pushes past her. "Nick, wait!"

But before she can catch up to him he's already out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

* * *

Nick is MIA for the rest of the night and into the next morning. He's not picking up his phone or answering her text messages, not that it stops Jess from calling him every hour in the hope that he'll finally answer. He clearly wants to be alone, but she can't help feeling responsible for him. So instead she just fills up his voicemail with rambling messages.

"Hey, Nick. It's Jess. We've been looking all over for you. We're at the funeral home now and the service is going to start in about an hour, so if you could call me back or show up that'd be super. Okay. Um, thanks, Nick. Call me back."

She hangs up and sets off in search of Schmidt and Winston. She finds them milling around in the gathering area of the funeral home. Schmidt is particularly jumpy and is wearing a truly ridiculous suit, whereas Winston seems to be in an eerie sense of calm.

"Have either of you seen Nick?" she asks, trying to keep her voice down so as not to alarm the other funeral attendees.

"He's not here?" Winson asks in disbelief, and Schmidt looks around the hall frantically.

There's a loud noise behind her, and Jess spins around to see Nick stumbling through the front door, clutching a paper bag covered bottle and towing a large and equally drunk man behind him. "Hey, everybody!" Nick announces. "I brought Elvis! Funeral saved. I found this guy at the bar and he fits into the costume. So for 20 bucks, he's gonna be Elvis."

 _Oh no._ Jess looks over to Winston in panic. He just shrugs and looks over to Nick and 'Elvis' with his eyebrows raised in concern. "How much have you had to drink?"

"One dozen beers," Nick burps. "And I wrote... I did what you asked me to do, Jessica. I wrote the, uh, gigleography."

Jess' brow furrows in confusion. "The what?"

"The gigleography," he slurs. "Urology. Elegy? Eulogish."

"You wrote the eulogy?" she clarifies.

"That's what I've been saying the whole time," he says, as if it's completely obvious. "It's right here." He hands her a post-it note with his messy handwriting

Winston peers over her shoulder and reads the note. "'Walt Miller. Am I right?'"

"Am I right?" he parrots drunkenly. "Am I right?"

"That's terrible," Schmidt chimes in, affronted.

"Googaliogy!" Nick cheers, and takes a swig from the paper bag covered drink in his hand.

"All right, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna sober up Nick and-" Jess sighs, "and Elvis. You," she points to Winston. "Go buy us some time. C'mon, Miller." She links her arm with his and drags him off towards the bathroom.

* * *

"You're mad at me," Nick tells her, leaning against the tiled wall beside the bathroom sink. "You've got the mad face. Caroline has the same one."

Jess sighs. She's not mad. Annoyed, sure. She's more than a little peeved at the whole situation and how it's slowly spiraling out of control. But she's not angry that Nick got overwhelmed by everything that's going on. "I'm not mad at you, Nick. I have your back. No matter what. No matter how stupid it gets, and you and I both know it can get really, really stupid." She laughs a little.

"I am the stupidest of all the stupid boys," Nick says in agreement.

"No, don't say that." She reaches out and squeezes his arm reassuringly. He smiles at her, sad and tired and still three beers past drunk. It's the first honest, genuine smile she's seen on him in weeks and Jess would be lying if she said it didn't make her heart beat a little faster in her chest.

"'M sorry I didn't write the eulogy, Jess. I just couldn't." He frowns and stares down at the sink. "I didn't like my dad. I didn't have anything to say."

She smiles encouragingly at him. "You just have to say _something_. It's not for him. It's for you, so he doesn't end up haunting the rest of your life."

Nick nods seriously, his frown deepening. There's a quiet moment, just the two of them in the bathroom where the only sound is the slow drip of the leaky faucet. He looks so vulnerable like this, with his shirt haphazardly untucked, his hair a mess, and his inhibitions lowered enough that he's wearing his heart on his sleeve. She can see the sadness and disappointment in his eyes and it makes her heart hurt.

"Am I giving up?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Oh, Nick," she says with a sigh. "No. You're not."

He looks up at her, clearly unconvinced.

"Nick. You're not giving up. I've seen you. You worked so hard to keep your family together, and you're still there for Abbi and Caroline whenever they need you. You didn't abandon them. You care about them so much. The divorce won't change that."

"Can I tell you something?" Nick asks hesitantly.

"Of course."

He crosses his arms over his chest and drops his gaze back down to the tiled floor, his voice wavering. "I'm afraid, Jess."

"What do you mean?"

"When I die, I don't want Abbi to hate me," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She _doesn't_ hate you."

"Yeah, but one day she might." He shrugs. "I didn't hate my dad when I was her age."

 _Oh. So that's what this is about._ "You're not like your dad, Nick."

"Sure I am," he says bitterly. "I'm giving up on my family and running away. No matter how hard I tried not to follow in his footsteps I ended up just like him anyways. I let them all down because I'm just not good enough. You see me right now? This is pretty much me at my best. I can't do anything right."

"Hey. Listen to me," she says firmly and Nick's head snaps up to look at her. "You are good enough. What you're doing is _enough_. I know you can't see that in yourself, so I'm going to keep telling you that until you can believe it." Jess fusses with his wrinkled shirt sleeve, just for an excuse to touch him. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm gonna be there, and I'm gonna hold your hand, and I wanted to tell you that last night, but you ran away. You're too hard on yourself, Nick. So whenever you get the idiotic idea that you're somehow not good enough, you come talk to me and I'll knock some sense into you, okay?"

He sniffles briefly and rubs the moisture from his cheek, clearly touched by her speech, before chuckling and shaking his head. "Alright. You're right. You're always right."

"And don't you forget it, Miller."

There's a groaning noise as Elvis, still completely plastered, emerges from the bathroom stall all decked out in the white pleather jumpsuit. He slurs something to Nick before stumbling out into the hallway. _Oh God_. Jess curses herself for not locking the door and chases off after him.

Out in the hallway she can hear what sounds like Winston wailing in the sanctuary as she runs after Elvis. She manages to corner him in the lobby, where he collapses into a chair and starts drinking out of a flask. Jess snatches it out of his hands, and Elvis promptly passes out a few seconds later. _Great._ She considers taking a shot herself, because what else could possibly go wrong today?

" _This_ is Elvis?" Mrs. Miller gasps.

Jess cringes and spins around to face her. "No..."

Mrs. Miller twists a paper program in her hands and starts to tear up. "This funeral's going down the toilet. I promised Walter it'd be beautiful and full of life. _I promised._ I'm sending everyone home." She turns to head back into the sanctuary.

"Wait," Jess chases after her and gently taps her arm. "Mrs. Miller-"

"Are you tapping me on the shoulder, girlie?" She turns to look at Jess with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "Let me make this perfectly clear: I don't like you. I don't know why you're here. I don't know why you're so obsessed with my son, if this is about money or sex or some kind of green card situation-"

"I promise you, it's not like that at all-"

"I don't care. I love Caroline. Some people have a daughter-in-law, I had a _daughter._ She's a part of our family. I saw the way she made my Nicky happy. I don't have time to play games with some _homewrecker_." Mrs. Miller bites out, before turning to walk away.

Against her better judgement, Jess reaches out and taps her on the shoulder once again.

"You tap me twice?"

"Please wait for Nick," she pleads. "It's important."

"Then why is he not here?" Mrs. Miller cries, gesturing to the empty hallway. "No eulogy? No Elvis? I'd rather not have a funeral if it's not gonna honor my husband."

Jess watches her go, a sinking feeling in her chest. She glances over to where Elvis is sprawled out in the chair and sighs, trying to come up with some way to recover this disaster of a day.

* * *

Admittedly, this isn't the most embarrassing thing Jess has ever done. But it likely is the most embarrassing thing she's ever done at a funeral, so there's that. The cheap Elvis costume is scratchy on her skin and the greased-up wig keeps coming dangerously close to falling into her eyes. Jess can't quite remember the next set of lyrics and her hands are so sweaty that the cheat sheet she'd written on her palms has smeared off. So she skips to the next chorus and ignores the death glare Mrs. Miller is giving her, like she's planning to turn this into a double funeral.

Jess starts to seriously reconsider whether this scheme was a good idea after all when she looks over to the entrance of the sanctuary where Winston, Schmidt, and Nick are watching the whole mess unfold. Nick has that same smile from the bathroom, but it looks like he's miraculously managed to sober up since then. He's even tucked in his shirt and pulled on his jacket. He's looking at her like with a combination of disbelief and amusement, his eyes soft and a small quirk of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jess smiles back at him and repeats the chorus another time.

" _Down in Chi-town. In the ghetto. In the ghetto-"_

"I'm gonna hit her," Mrs. Miller threatens.

Nick just chuckles and hold his hands up in a calming gesture. "Mom, please. Dad would've liked this. He would've faked a slip-and-fall and sued the funeral home, but he would've liked this." The crowd laughs quietly. Nick smiles again, and Jess can't help but notice that it looks a little more forced than it did just a few seconds ago. He steps up to the podium and lets out a shaky exhale. "Thank you, Jess."

"You're welcome, Mama," she says in her best Elvis voice.

Nick clears his throat nervously, and manages to find a few nice things to say about his father. He trails off about midway through, his thumbs twirling awkwardly as he struggles to come up with what to say next. Jess takes a step toward the podium and gently takes Nick's hand in hers. Nick looks up at her, his eyes staring intensely at hers as a trace of a smile reappears on his face.

"You okay, Mama?" she asks him.

He chuckles and squeezes her hand back. "Yeah, I'm gonna be okay, Mama."

Jess smiles warmly at him. Out of the corner of her eye she can spot Mrs. Miller watching the two of them with a complicated look. She seems skeptical, still wary of Jess' involvement in her son's life. But there's also a shimmer of something like pride or maybe even happiness underneath it all. Jess thinks she's probably reading into it too much. She really did want to make a good impression on Nick's family.

She raises the microphone back up to her mouth and starts singing. " _'Cause if there's one thing that she don't need. It's another hungry mouth to feed. In the ghetto-"_

Nick shakes his head and chuckles at her antics. But Jess gets him to sing part of the chorus with her, and then it's only a matter of time before everyone else in attendance is singing along. Even Mrs. Miller stands up to show off her own Elvis impression.

Jess chalks the funeral service up as a win.

* * *

After the service there's a little get together at the Miller's house, which is filled with people coming in to drop off casseroles and wish their condolences over Walt's passing. Jess had expected it to be somewhat of a somber affair, but it ends up being a lot more vibrant and rambunctious than she expected. Everyone mingles about in the main rooms on the first floor, chatting and laughing while still in the clothes they wore to the funeral. It's odd, but it feels genuine in a way that's incredibly comforting.

A group of kids run amok in the backyard, screaming and hurling snowballs at each other. Jess smiles and watches from the kitchen window as Nick joins in the chaos, leading an incredibly dramatic attack on the icicle-covered swing set that ends with him collapsing to the ground after taking a snowball to the chest.

"He's good with them, isn't he?"

Jess turns to see Mrs. Miller standing beside her, looking out at the picturesque scene with a slight smile.

She nods. "Yeah, he really is."

One of the girls drops a clump of snow onto his face, and Nick sputters and tries to grab at her ankles as she quickly darts away. Mrs. Miller chuckles and shakes her head. "He's always been a family man," she says seriously. "I just don't want him to lose that."

Jess nervously bites down on her lower lip. "He hasn't. He fought hard to keep them all together. He still makes time for both of them."

Mrs. Miller stares her down with a guarded look, trying to discern whether Jess is telling the truth. "Good."

There's another loud series of cheers as Nick stands up and brushes the snow off his coat. The kids swarm around him victoriously and he holds his hands up in surrender as he slowly backs up towards the house and leaves them behind to continue playing while he goes back inside the house. Nick slams the door to the kitchen shut and shrugs off his coat, getting snow all over the floor.

"Hey, Ma, Jess." Nick's wearing a huge grin, and his cheeks are tinted bright red from the cold.

Jess laughs. "Hey. Did you have fun?"

He sheepishly looks down at his shoes, still rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them up. "That was just for the kids."

"Uh huh," she says skeptically. "You must be freezing."

Nick shrugs and tugs at the laces of his boots. "I'm fine."

She stares at his bright red fingers and rolls her eyes. Nick could be bleeding out from a gaping wound and still claim to be ' _fine'_. "You're shivering. Were you even wearing gloves?"

"Jess," he laughs. "I'm _fine_."

"I'm making you hot chocolate."

"You don't even know where it is."

"I'll figure it out."

"Jess..."

She ignores his protests and switches on the electric kettle sitting on the counter. As she turns to look through the pantry for some hot chocolate mix she spots Mrs. Miller watching the two of them with one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Oh, sorry, Mrs. Miller. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. Make yourself at home," she smiles at Jess before disappearing off to the living room. It sticks with Jess for a moment, something a little more meaningful lurking under the surface of her words or the glimmer in her eye. But then she refocuses on the task at hand, which is equal parts making sure Nick doesn't have hypothermia while also making fun of him for getting snow all down the back of his shirt.

* * *

Later that afternoon Winston and Schmidt load their luggage into the taxi while Jess waits near the the front door of the house for Nick to catch up with them. She shivers in her coat and tries to think of the right thing to say to Nick's mom as they wait awkwardly in the front yard.

"Thank you again, Mrs. Miller-"

"Bonnie," she corrects, and Jess' eyes widen.

"Thank you, Bonnie."

"Don't mention it." She glances towards the house. "And... Thank you for looking out for Nicky. I know how tough his job is, how hard it can be to support a family. I worry about him, out there all alone in California."

Jess nods in agreement, not sure how to respond.

"I'm glad there's someone out there looking after him," Bonnie says with a meaningful look at Jess. She reaches into the pocket of her coat and pulls out a Ziploc baggie filled with Cheetos. "I packed you a snack for the trip."

"Oh," Jess says in surprise. "Thank you."

"Don't you hurt him," Bonnie warns and then gives Jess a final pat on the shoulder. "Have a good flight."

Jess smiles nervously and hurries off to join Winston and Schmidt at the taxi. Bonnie genuinely scares her. But she's not angry at Jess anymore. Or at least Jess doesn't think she is.

Nick sits next to her on the plane again on the flight home. He stuffs his carry-on into the overhead compartment and sits down beside her.

"Hey, Jess?"

"Yeah?"

He sighs and smiles at her. "Thanks for coming."

She grins at him and jokingly elbows him. "Of course."


	22. Singles Awareness Day

"Nick, I'm telling you man, it's gonna be _off the charts_."

Nick frowns at Schmidt and bites into a heart-shaped cookie. Jess made about fifty million of these to hand out at work and to give to all of her friends for Valentine's Day, and the kitchen is still covered with a thin dusting of pink glittery sprinkles. He's already eaten half a dozen on his own, but it's almost as if every time he takes a cookie off the platter on the dining table two more appear in its place, taunting him in all their pink, uneaten glory. He doesn't even like dessert. Why does he keep eating them?! Jess has ruined him.

"I don't know," Nick hesitates. Schmidt's been trying to convince him to come out to the bar for weeks now, but he's yet to be convinced. His to-do list is a mile long, and there's a hundred other things that would be a better use of his time and money than wasting it on overpriced drinks at the bar.

"It's Valentine's Day, so the place is going to be _crawling_ with girls who are desperate for a little Schmitty to fill that emotional pit in their sad, single lives," he says with particularly douche-y conviction. Unfortunately, the holiday has served to further stoke his frat boy ego. "I need you there. You're the best wingman that's ever wung."

Nick groans and rolls his eyes. He left his wingman days back in college. He doesn't have the time to pull off elaborately dumb schemes to help his best friend pick up girls at parties. "Can't you bring Winston along?"

"He's doing some weird ladies' night thing with Shelby," he explains. "Besides, it's been _months_ since you got any. Maybe even years."

"Shut up, Schmidt," Nick bites out. It hasn't been _years_. Things with Caroline weren't _that_ bad. "I'm too old to go out looking for a hookup. I just want to stay home and-"

"And drink alone and get all sad about your divorce," Schmidt interrupts.

"That's not what..." Nick trails off and Schmidt gives him a knowing look. "Shut up," he mutters and takes another bite of his cookie. It's true. He'd been planning to break out the bottle of scotch he'd been saving and try to work through some of the documents his divorce attorney had dropped off at his legal office this morning.

"Hey guys?" Jess' voice echoes out from her bedroom. "Can you tell me if I look alright?"

Jess steps hesitantly out into the living room, gesturing to her outfit and looking more than a little anxious. She's wearing this little black dress that clings to the gentle curve of her waist and highlights her graceful hourglass figure. It's a sexy, classic look, especially paired with the sleek black tights and high heels that she only seems to be slightly wobbly on. Nick's eyes travel up her body, from the long length of her legs to the slightly messy pile of hair on top of her head. She looks incredible. Whoever she's going to meet is one lucky guy.

Schmidt lets out a low, appreciative whistle.

"You look great," Nick tells her honestly.

"Thanks, Nick." Jess bites down on her lip and blushes slightly. She ducks her head and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Jess pulls her phone out from her bag to type out a quick text, smiling down at the screen at whatever message comes back through. "Well, I guess I'll see you two later."

Schmidt waves at her as she walks out the door. "Have fun, Jess."

"Bye guys!"

"See," Schmidt says once the front door is closed. "Even _Jess_ is going out tonight."

Nick rolls his eyes. He thinks about the six dozen work voicemails he needs to respond to and how the only valentine he got this year was a first draft of a divorce settlement from his soon-to-be ex-wife. And Schmidt's right, even Jess is getting out there and moving on. He can't be a sad, single, divorced guy forever. Nick lets out a long exhale. "Alright, fine. I'm in."

* * *

They get to the bar and it's crammed full of young people trying to find someone to spend the holiday with so they don't end up alone at the end of the night. Nick feels more than a little out of place. He's one of the oldest people in this bar, besides Schmidt of course. He doesn't belong here. Schmidt had to remind him to take off his wedding ring before they came in. He knows Caroline and him are over but he's still been wearing it out of habit. Part of him wonders how long it'll take before it no longer feels like he's missing something when he takes it off and the groove on his finger where it's been all these years finally fades.

He tries to flirt with some pleasantly chatty girl at the bar named Samantha. She strokes his ego by giggling at his subpar jokes and seems weirdly impressed that he knows how to order an actual drink from the bar instead of just beer or whatever girly cocktail the bar has on special order tonight. They chat for a while until Nick mentions Abbi, and then he has a horrible moment of realization when it turns out they rode the bus together when Samantha was a senior in high school and Abbi just started her first year of kindergarten. The conversation quickly falls off after that. Nick still pays for her drink because that feels like the gentlemanly thing to do but then he hightails it towards Schmidt's booth as quickly as possible.

"How'd it go, man?" Schmidt asks excitedly.

"Well, I got her number." Nick holds up the slightly damp napkin. "So I think she'll make a great babysitter the next time Caroline goes out of town."

"Ouch."

Nick shrugs and knocks back the rest of his beer. He really hadn't expected anything to come out of it. He's still too caught up in his head over Caroline to really move on to another relationship. And really, he's too old for this speed-dating, hook-up culture. Maybe that was the right thing for him fifteen years ago, but he's old man Miller now. He just wants to take a woman out to a nice, quiet restaurant and then relax on the couch afterwards with a beer. That can't be asking for too much.

His phone rings in his pocket, and he digs it out to see who's calling him this late. Jess' picture is on the screen, the one she'd sent him specifically to use for her contact photo where she has some FlashTalk filter on to give her cartoon bunny ears. Nick gestures apologetically at his phone and excuses himself from the table, but Schmidt is too busy staring at some red headed woman to notice him sneak outside. He stands on the curb with a few people who are out for a smoke, and he nods politely at them before tapping the _Answer Call_ button.

"Jess! Hey, what's up?" he asks, pressing one finger to his ear to block out the sound echoing out of the loud bar.

"Hey, Nick," she says with a sniffle. "Are you busy?"

"Not really. I'm at the bar with Schmidt. What's up?"

"Oh nothing," Jess' voice wavers on the second syllable and she takes a deep breath before continuing. "It's just, well- It's sounds silly but, um, my date was supposed to meet me at the restaurant but it's been half an hour and he's still not here, so..."

Nick grimaces. "Shit, Jess. That's awful. I'm sorry."

She sniffs again. "It's fine-"

"No, hold on, I'll come get you."

"It's fine, Nick. I already called a cab, it's just..." She lets out a shaky exhale and Nick can practically hear the tears welling up in her eyes. "I just don't want to be alone right now is all."

There's a dull ache in Nick's chest at her words. If there's anyone in this world who doesn't deserve to be alone today it's Jess. She's a goddamn angel, sweet and kind and considerate. Nick's already making plans to track down this asshole who stood her up so he can knock some sense into that clown. He can't believe someone would ever _think_ of hurting her, and if they do they'll have him to deal with afterwards.

"Well, if you want you can come out to the bar with us," he offers. There's very little that Nick knows about emotional support, but if there's one thing he's learned over the years it's that enough alcohol can cure any emotional ailment.

"Are you sure?" she asks, a faint tint of hope in her voice. "I don't wanna crash your guys' night."

"Nah, plenty of room. I'm pretty sure Schmidt's about to ditch me for some girl anyways." He says it as a joke, but Nick wouldn't be surprised if he walked back in to the bar to see that Schmidt's abandoned him in a quest to get laid. As much as he hates to see Jess get hurt, he's selfishly glad that he'll be able to spend the night with her.

Jess giggles on the other end of the line. "Alright. I'll be there in a few."

"Okay. I'll text you the address."

"Thanks, Nick." Her voice is soft with friendly affection, and it fills his chest up with this warm and fuzzy feeling that radiates out to his fingertips.

"Of course, Jess." He hangs up the phone and heads back into the bar.

Schmidt stares at him in confusion as he walks back over to the table. "What's up, man?"

"What are you talking about?" Nick slides into the booth seat across from him.

"That weird thing on your face. I've never seen anything like it." Schmidt says in mock concern. "Is that a smile? I didn't know your face could do that."

Nick narrows his eyes at him and lets the expression switch back to a frown. "Shut up."

"Calm down, man. I'm just razzing you," Schmidt says with a laugh.

"Whatever," Nick mutters and slides back out of his seat. "I'm getting drinks."

Nick orders another beer and a glass of pink wine for Jess to have when she arrives. It takes a while for a bartender to get around to him, so Nick ends up having another stilted conversation with some woman at the bar as they wait for their drinks. Initially she seems more than a little interested in him, but he keeps finding himself unsure of what to say next. He's incredibly relieved when she leaves with her drink, seemingly after losing interest in their one-sided conversation.

Schmidt looks at the wine with a quirked eyebrow when Nick sets the extra glass down on the table.

"Jess is gonna swing by," Nick explains quickly, trying to preserve his image before Schmidt has a chance to make a dig at his masculinity. Nick Miller is not a Rosé kind of man. He only ever wants a drink that a coal miner would want. Straightforward, honest. Something that says _I work in a hole._

"What about her date? Was it really _that_ bad?" Schmidt asks with a laugh and takes a sip of his own drink.

"She got stood up," he says, unable to keep the bitter edge out of his voice.

Schmidt frowns and mutters under his breath, "Fuckin' Tommy."

"Wait, did you set her up?"

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Look, man, I didn't think he was going to bail on her without warning."

"Without _warning?_ " Nick says accusingly. "So you knew it was a possibility the whole time? And you still let her go out with him?"

"The last thing I wanted was for Jess to get hurt," he says seriously.

Nick frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well what did you expect when you set her up with one of your asshole friends?"

"I didn't set her up. I took her to an office party where she met him and got his number," Schmidt explains, looking nearly as pissed off as Nick feels. "Listen, I've known her for longer than you have. You didn't see what she was like when she moved in, it was awful. I've been trying to help her get a rebound and move on. I care about her, man."

Nick's gut instinct is to be skeptical of Schmidt's little speech. But it does seem to be coming from a genuine place. And as much of a douchebag as Schmidt can be, he's a good guy at heart. Even if some of his friends are real assholes.

Besides, Jess is a grown woman. It's not like they can forbid her from dating someone. The best they can do is try to make sure she doesn't get hurt. But still, he hates that Schmidt put her in a position where he _knew_ there was a chance she was going to get hurt. Nick can't imagine doing something like that to her. Over the past year she's really become one of his closest friends. She means too much to him that he would even consider the possibility.

But he lets it go for now and lets Schmidt move the conversation on to some other topic. He drifts in and out of paying attention, his head still caught up worrying about how Jess is doing. She arrives a few minutes later, her eyes rimmed red and a forced smile plastered on as she walks up to their table. "Hey guys," she says sadly, wringing the strap of her purse in her hands.

Nick grins and holds his arms out in welcome. "Hey! It's Jess! Sit down, girl."

She slides into his side of the booth, her smile slightly more genuine when Nick bumps his shoulder into hers.

"Here, we got you a drink." Schmidt pushes the glass towards her. Nick glares at him, because _he's_ the one who actually paid for it.

"Oh, you guys..." Jess stares down at the glass and tears start building up in her eyes again as she looks up at the two of them. "That's so nice."

Schmidt looks at her with a slight flash of fear in his eyes. "What is that?"

"Come on, don't start crying," Nick says and sets his hand on her shoulder.

Jess sniffles and rubs at her eye. "It's nothing, it's just- That's really cool of you."

"It's okay, hey, don't cry." Nick glances over to Schmidt for backup, but he's also discreetly trying to blink away his own tears. "Schmidt, why are you crying? Because that's not helping."

"She's making me cry with her emotions," he says indignantly and Nick rolls his eyes.

"It's fine guys, really," she says with a watery smile.

"Well alright then." Nick pats her on the back. "Let's drink."

* * *

About an hour and several glasses of wine later Jess has left the evening's heartbreak far behind her. Her tears are almost entirely gone, just the slightest smudge of black underneath her eyes is all that gives away that she was crying earlier. Now she's back to laughing and smiling, her cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming with mirth. They're sitting up at the bar, and Nick smiles and nods as she tells him an incredibly long and rambling story about a disastrous date she had back in college.

"We were trapped in that plastic castle for _three hours_. It was a _mess,_ Nick!" she says emphatically. "A mess!"

"I'm sure it was," he chuckles and rubs his palms together, his elbows resting on the slightly sticky surface of the bar.

Jess gives him another bright smile and takes a sip from her obnoxiously pink cocktail. It's something that's more vodka than mixer and named something cheesy like _The Heartbreaker_. His gaze gets caught on the way her bright red lips pucker around the straw of her drink, and he quickly shifts his gaze away to look around the bar.

Things have died down since they first got here, and most people seem to have either paired off with someone or left in search of another party. Schmidt's all the way across the bar chatting up some dark-haired woman whose face isn't visible from this far away. Big Bob takes advantage of the lull in business to clean up a little, meandering around the tables to pick up empty glasses and discarded napkins. There's an overly affectionate couple in the corner booth, getting pretty handsy given that they're in the middle of a crowded bar.

"Ugh, _couples_ ," Jess groans as she stares over at the two. "He looks like he's trying to eat her face off."

"He does, doesn't he?" Nick laughs. "I wonder if she knows that her boyfriend's a leech."

Jess laughs and digs her straw through the ice in her glass. "Like, we get it! You're together! You don't need to rub it in our faces."

Nick hums in agreement. "Like those couples who use all those weird pet names."

"Awww, hewwo _Snookums_!" Jess says in an obnoxiously high-pitched baby-talk voice. "I wuv you so much pookie."

"Oh, God, please, no. Have mercy," Nick begs with a laugh.

Jess tips her head back and laughs. "Couples suck."

Nick nods his head towards the couple in the corner. "Literally."

They both dissolve into giggles at his joke, slightly bent over the bar and their knees knocking against each other underneath the counter. Jess is two glasses of wine past drunk and Nick's got a good beer buzz going, which just makes everything seem funnier than it probably is. She'd laugh at pretty much anything at this point, even the tiniest little thing is enough to make her smile wide, her big blue eyes sparkling in the dim bar.

He likes hanging out with Jess. It's exciting and easy and he doesn't struggle to find the right words to say to make her like him. She's just plain fun to be around. It's that crazy bubbly energy that she has, or maybe something else that he hasn't quite figured out yet. Things always seem a little bit better when she's around, a little bit more manageable. He had originally planned to spend Valentine's Day at home, getting drunk and stewing in his misery. But instead he's been here hanging out with Jess all night, taking turns trying to make each other laugh and sharing their dating horror stories. Nick's glad that he let Schmidt convince him to come out tonight, just so he could have this moment with Jess.

"But you know what really sucks?" Jess asks, pointing towards him with her straw, more than a little wobbly on her bar stool.

"What?" Nick asks, not even bothering to hide his amusement at Jess' drunken state.

"Valentine's Day. It's not even a real holiday. It's jus-" She hiccups. "Just a made up thing to sell candy and cards and flowers. By _Capitalism_ ," she adds with particular distaste.

"You know what, Jess, I think you're on to something here," he says encouragingly, trying to temporarily bite back his laughter and goad her on. "Maybe it's all just one big conspiracy to make single people feel like shit."

"Yes! Exactly!" she cheers, almost sloshing a piece of ice out of her glass.

She leans a little too far back on her seat and looks dangerously close to slipping off the edge. Nick reaches out to grab her wrist and pull her forward an inch or two, preemptively catching her before she falls. Jess pouts petulantly at him, but she doesn't yank her hand free from his grip. Nick's not quite sure why he lets his touch linger afterwards, but there's something about feeling the soft skin of her wrist against his thumb that feels weirdly right. Jess stares down at his hand with a slightly confused expression, and Nick reluctantly lets go of her.

"Thanks," she says quietly, teasing her lower lip with her teeth.

"No problem." He clears his throat. He feels weirdly out of breath for no real reason, but that's probably just his most recent beer finally kicking in. "I don't want you to fall and crack your head open. Then you'd get blood all over the place and I'd have to stay behind to mop it all up. These are my good shoes. I can't get brain bits all over them."

" _Niiick_ ," she drags out the sound of his name and jokingly shoves at his shoulder. "Don't be mean."

"Alright, fine," he admits with an eye roll. "I _guess_ I'd miss you if you were to die in a tragic bar stool related accident."

"Aw, Miller, I'm touched," she jokes, batting her eyelashes and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

The bartender comes around to check in on them. Nick orders another beer for himself, against his better judgment. He's already regretting the hangover he's sure to have tomorrow, but that's _ages_ away. He'll let Future Nick take care of that one. Jess also gets another glass of pink wine, despite his best efforts to cut her off.

"Don't worry, I'll sip at it," she says, but the slight slur to her words is less than reassuring. "Besides, I earned this after my shitty day."

"Ugh," Nick groans angrily. "That asshole has no idea what he's missing out on, Jess."

"No, it's my fault. I scared him away." Jess frowns down at her glass, dragging her finger around the rim in a slow circle. "I mean, who has their first date on Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah, I hear ya there," he admits with a shrug. But that's still no excuse to be an asshole. Especially to someone as incredible as her. "But honestly, Jess, you deserve so much better. I mean, look at you. You look like a damn Disney Princess."

Jess blushes and takes a drink of her wine. "Are you trying to be my Valentine, Miller?"

Nick laughs. "Oh please, you don't have to settle for me."

"I don't know," she sighs and rests her chin on the palm of her hand, leans her weight onto her elbow resting on the bartop. "I'd settle for anyone at this point. I'm tired of spending these holidays alone."

"Oh yeah? What did you do last February?"

Jess lets out a long exhale, drumming her fingernails on the table. "Well, I'd just learned that Spencer was cheating on me, so I was probably on my twenty-fifth rewatch of _Dirty Dancing_."

"Great movie," Nick remarks and takes a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, it's my go-to for a good post-breakup cry. I must have watched it a hundred times over. I nearly drove Coach, Schmidt, and Winston crazy that month." Jess huffs a short laugh and takes a sip of wine. "It's just...I thought I was in love with him. I would've _married_ him." She swirls around the contents of her glass pensively.

Nick picks at the label on his beer bottle, trying to remember where he was a year ago. So much has happened over the past few months. It feels like it's an entire lifetime ago. "Last Valentine's Day I was fighting with Caroline. I had this huge case scheduled to go to court on the 16th, so I was pretty much working around the clock for the two weeks leading up to it. I got maybe six hours of sleep total in those four days right before the trial. But Caroline was upset that I couldn't make time for her or Abbi."

"Well, you tried your best."

He shrugs. "I didn't really try too hard."

Jess hums thoughtfully. "That was a year ago. Things are different now, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Nick mutters, staring down at the bartop. He can already feel his drunken high starting to fade, pulling him into a spiral of regret for all the mistakes he's made over the years. He can't help but think of all the things he did wrong, all the ways he chipped away at the foundation until his relationship with Caroline came crashing down.

That case was huge for him; it's still his biggest win to date. It had earned him a hearty bonus that got kicked straight into Abbi's college fund. But instead of being proud of his hard work, Caroline was upset that he had been practically nonexistent at home for those two weeks. And Nick had been disappointed in himself. There was a Daddy-Daughter Dance on Valentine's Day weekend that Abbi had gotten excited about, but he just couldn't fit it into his schedule. When it came down to it, his job always took priority over his family and frequently that meant disappointing his daughter. It tore him up on the inside but he somehow convinced himself that all that temporary pain was going to be worth it in the future.

He wants to say that he would make the right choice if he had to do it again. But in reality, he's not really sure what the 'right choice' is.

"I don't mean to pry, but how is the divorce going?" Jess asks, nervously chewing on her lower lip.

Nick sighs and takes a long drink of his beer. _The Divorce._ It's messy and complicated and it sends a suckerpunch of guilt to his gut every time he thinks about it, so he tries to avoid dwelling on it as much as possible. "We're settling out of court. And you know, we both just want what's best for Abbi. We want her to grow up with two parents. Abbi's still living with Caroline most of the time, but that's just logistical. I don't have a room for her at the loft. I'm also already at work when the bus comes to get her in the morning and I don't get home in time to pick her up from the bus stop at the end of the school day. Hopefully someday she can split her time evenly between the two of us."

Jess nods. "You know, if Abbi ever wants to sleep over, she can use my bedroom. I'll just crash with Cece for the weekend. No big deal."

Her offer takes him by surprise. Sure, it's not a permanent solution, but it could mean that he could actually have Abbi over for a full weekend, something he didn't think he'd would be able to have until he moved out of 4D. "That's- that's really sweet of you, Jess."

She smiles and shrugs. "I do what I can."

"I guess... I don't know," Nick hesitates. He takes a deep breath and tries to sort out the complicated knot of feelings in his chest into something somewhat coherent. "I'm not sure what to do with myself anymore. I mean, I had this whole plan for the future, where I wanted to be five, ten, fifteen years from now. And now it's all down the drain. I have no clue what comes next."

"Well that's sort of the fun of it." Jess grins and playfully pushes at his shoulder. "You can focus on the moment without worrying about whether or not it keeps you on target to get you to that future you want.

"I guess," he agrees half-heartedly. The future is terrifying. The only way he can turn it into something somewhat less daunting is by trying to formulate some kind of game plan for moving forward. He's too old to live in the moment. "It's just...I've spent nearly half of my life as Caroline's husband. And you saw what happened with that. I'm not good at being in a relationship, and I'm even worse at being single." His hand absently drifts over to fiddle with his wedding ring, and it's not until his fingers touch the bare skin that he remembers the ring is sitting in the cupholder of his car. He drops both hands back down to the bar with a sigh. "I just... I don't know how to do this."

"Look at us," Jess says with a rueful smile. "Couple of losers. Single on Valentine's Day."

"I'll drink to that," he toasts and she giggles before clinking the rim of her glass against the neck of his beer bottle.

They sit in silence for a moment, a comfortable pause as they slowly sober up. He appreciates that they don't always have to fill every moment with conversation. And Jess is such an open book about her feelings that he knows that the silence isn't a sign that she's upset with him but doesn't want to say it outright. He never has to work to untwist her words or jump through hoops to understand what she's _actually_ saying. She's so genuinely honest and that's one of Nick's favorite things about her.

Jess nibbles nervously on her lower lip and stares down at her pink fingernails with a distant gaze. "Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah, Jess?" He takes another sip of beer.

"Even when things with you and Caroline weren't great, you didn't cheat on her, did you?"

Nick nearly spits out his drink. "No. Never."

That's a line he'd never crossed. No matter how bad things got between them, no matter how much they fought or how upset he was with her, he'd never slept with another woman. He'd considered it on occasion, but only as a fleeting thought that he pushed away just as quickly as it appeared and never followed through with. He couldn't do that to her.

Jess hums and swirls the last bit of wine around in her glass. "I just...well, I don't know. I wonder if there's something wrong with me sometimes."

Nick's brow furrows in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She shrugs sheepishly. "I mean, I couldn't keep Spencer around. Which... whatever. He was a jerk. I know that now. But it's been a year and I'm _still_ looking for a rebound. And no matter what I did at Coolidge they still didn't seem to think I was good enough to earn a promotion. I mean, they gave the VP spot to _Genzlinger_. I busted my ass for that school and everyone knew it. I can't even get a date for Valentine's Day. Isn't that sad?"

"Jess, listen to me." Nick grabs onto her hand. "You're incredible. Those people are all idiots and they have no idea what they're missing. You're the best thing that they'll never have-"

"Was that Beyoncé?"

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I'm trying to give you a pep talk here, Jessica, but I can't do that if you point out that I steal all of my motivational phrases."

"It's plagiarism. I have to report it. I'm an English teacher," she says reflexively, but her smile falters at the second half and her attempt at a joke falls flat.

"Hey, you'll be a teacher again. If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you can do anything you put your mind to."

Jess giggles and the tips of her fingers brush over the back of his hand. It's just a tiny little movement, and Nick's not quite sure why he even notices it, but he does. "Ugh, what a year, huh?"

"It's February." Nick chuckles. "The year's barely started."

She lets out a long groan of defeat. "Don't remind me."

Nick laughs. He gives her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, for real, Jess. You're amazing. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

"Thanks, Nick." Jess smiles at him. "And the same goes for you. I know things didn't work out with you and Caroline, but that doesn't mean you're doomed to loneliness. You'll find someone. The right someone."

Jess slips her hand out of his grasp and Nick finds himself missing the contact. Jess is such a touchy-feely person. She doesn't really have a concept of 'personal space.' It took him a while to get used to the fact that she would have to reach out and touch him when she was talking, almost like she couldn't help it. But it's nice. Reassuring. Nick smiles at her and knocks back the last dregs of his beer.

"Alright. I think it's about time to get a cab and call it a night." Nick glances around the room. "Looks like Schmidt already left without us."

She finishes the last sip of her wine. "I'm sure we'll hear him when we get home."

Nick makes a face of disgust as he pulls out his wallet. "You're probably right."

Jess laughs and shrugs in apology.

He closes out their tab while Jess calls a cab, and then they chat for a while while they wait on the curb. A few minutes later they're walking up to the building when Jess comes to a sudden halt.

"Oh my god."

"What?" Nick stops and looks around frantically. "Jess? Are you okay?"

She points straight ahead towards the lobby where Schmidt and the brunette from the bar are making out. Nick stares at the two for a second. There's something familiar about the woman, although they're still far enough away that it's hard to make out exactly who it is.

"Is that..." he trails off, because even if it is who he thinks it is, it doesn't make any sense.

"Cece." Jess says in shock.

"Huh."

They stand there for a minute, still struggling to believe the sight before them. It doesn't make any sense. Cece and Schmidt? _Schmidt?_ Nick has only interacted with Cece a handful of times, but with the way Jess talks about her best friend, he thought that someone like Cece would never buy into Schmidt's whole douchebag schtick. But then again, Schmidt is one of his best friends, and if he's happy then that's all Nick can ask for. He actually can't help being a little impressed. He wonders how Schmidt won her over.

"Is there a back entrance?" Nick whispers to Jess. The couple doesn't seem too keen to come up for air any time soon.

Jess scrunches up her nose in distaste. "Unfortunately, no."

"Well," Nick takes a deep breath and steps forward. "This is going to be fun."


	23. Adore you

Nick is so fucking drunk. Absurdly, ridiculously, hilariously drunk. Everything is fuzzy and has this sort of glow around the edges and he's smiling and laughing so much his cheeks have started to feel tight. Even his face knows happiness is unusual for him, but it's started to become his new normal. It's been a little over three months since he and Caroline decided they were better off apart than together. He's a free man in a way he hasn't been since his first year in undergrad. It's both thrilling and terrifying.

They're all crammed into a sticky little booth in the corner of the bar. It's the one the guys like because it's just a few blocks down from the loft, the drinks are cheap, and if Cece's working she'll sneak them free rounds of shots whenever her manager isn't looking. He vaguely remembers meeting Schmidt here that fateful night of parent-teacher conferences. This was also the bar where he ended up that time Jess had to come pick him up after he tried drowning his sorrows in alcohol on Abbi's birthday. He's lost count of the number of times he's been here since.

There are much better bars, but he's a creature of habit. He still likes consistency and this bar almost reminds him of himself. It's not fancy but it never pretends to be. It's a little bit old, a little bit worn down, but it's earned every single crack in its foundation, every single stain. He likes that it's part of his life at this point, a regular backdrop as routine as the loft or his law office, comfortable in its familiarity.

He's been tagging along with the guys and Jess to things like this more lately, just hanging out, trying to make free time in his tight schedule to relax and actually _enjoy_ life. In the past few months he's probably spent more time with his family and friends than he has in years, and it feels good. He's trying to break himself of the habit of feeling guilty for doing something for himself for once. It's a hard habit to break.

He's not maintaining the insanely high number of billable hours that he used to, but his quality of work has jumped enough that Meriwether seems to be slightly more willing to cut him some slack. They have a pretty big client they're in the beginning process of making negotiations with, and Nick imagines he'll be expected to step up once they've nailed down the representation details. For now, he's enjoying the chance to spend a little extra time messing around with his roommates and getting drunk on the weekends, unwinding after his long days at the office.

Schmidt is in the middle of telling some hyperbolic story that only gets more absurd as Winston goads him on. Nick can't quite remember what number beer he's on. The alcohol is really starting to kick in but he knows he can't really get blackout drunk like he used to. He still feels that competitive streak within him, the impulse to keep up with the guys against his better judgement. But he has more important responsibilities now: a demanding job to stay on top of and a daughter to be there for. So he reigns in the impulse and nurses the next beer in front of him while he goes along with whatever absurd tale his buddies try to spin for him. Jess, their designated driver, just laughs and shakes her head at their nonsense as she sip at a Shirley Temple while the rest of the guys get hammered.

She's such a sweetheart. Anyone else would have left him, Schmidt, and Winston to drunkenly fend for themselves, but she'd happily offered to be their DD before they even asked. That's Jess' thing. She's always there for you when you need someone. If you forgot to get toothpaste the last time you went to the drugstore, she's standing right there with an extra tube. If you need a ride to the airport in the middle of the night, she'll get you there with plenty of time to get through security. If you're having a bad day, she's ready with a plate of sugary desserts and a sympathetic ear. Jess is the best.

He's pressed right up against her on their side of the tiny booth. Jess leans against him, her arms bare in the little red sundress she's wearing. It's slowly getting warmer the more they get into spring, and Jess is wearing more of these short dresses and skirts that make her legs look long and lean. He'll get home from work and they'll hang out on the couch, and her legs will be propped up on the coffee table shimmering underneath her glossy tights or sometimes just her bare skin all gleaming and smooth. She looks nice in red, with the way the color stands out against her pale skin and the dark waves of her hair.

Maybe he should have been the designated driver because every time he gets drunk all he wants to do is stare at her. Not in a creepy way. (He hopes it's not in a creepy way.) The alcohol just makes him brave enough to push his mind into thinking of her as more than just a friend in a way he doesn't allow himself to when he's sober. But it's no big deal. They're just friends. _Really._ So what if he finds her attractive? You'd have to be blind not to. It's just objective. They're just friends. That's all.

It's tough. He thinks men and women can be friends, but it's difficult to fight off what seems to be an inevitable attraction just because there's a potential for something more, even if it's unwanted or unwarranted. He kind of hates having to find that balance, the way that every once and a while the mood changes, and he's not sure why. Jess deserves better than that. She's nice to everybody anyway, and he doesn't want to be one of those douchebags who thinks that just because a woman is nice to him it means she's attracted to him. She doesn't owe him anything. It's just hard to be around her sometimes, especially when he's drunk like this. It makes his brain think there's something there when there isn't.

Jess keeps nodding and smiling at Schmidt's story, and for some reason Nick can't stop staring at her bright red lips. Winston makes some sarcastic comment that Nick doesn't quite follow, but Schmidt gets all pink and starts to sputter anyways. Jess bites her lip to hold back a laugh, teeth sinking into the plump swell of her lower lip and Nick has the sudden urge to replace her teeth with his own.

 _Wait, what?_ He's drunk. So drunk.

Schmidt says something particularly douchey in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment, and Jess tips her head back and laughs again. Her eyes fall closed, her long lashes fanning out into dark smears above her pink tinted cheeks. Nick stares at the lean curve of her neck, the defined line of the tendon that connects behind her ear to the gentle dip of her collarbone. His mouth goes dry, and he absentmindedly runs his tongue over his lips.

She opens her eyes again and they're bright blue, shimmering in the dim light of the bar. Jess turns her head towards him, her smile broad and vibrant as she looks at him expectantly. "Nick?" she asks with hint of concern. "You alright?"

It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what she's asking him and another long pause for him to realize he has to answer her question. He shakes his head slightly to clear his thoughts. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. That last drink got on top of me, I guess."

Jess' brow furrows and she nudges him out of his seat. "I'm gonna get you some water."

"You don't have to do that," he says, not moving from his seat and effectively trapping her in the booth. "I'm fine."

She rolls her eyes. "You're drinking a gallon of water when we get home."

"Cross my heart."

"Pinky swear," Jess says and holds up her littlest finger.

Nick chuckles and links his pinky with hers. The tiniest brush of contact sends a tingle up his arm, which intensifies when Jess gives him another bright smile and flexes her finger slightly before letting him go. It makes him struggle to catch his breath, and there's this dangerous warmth brewing in the pit of his stomach that flares up everytime Jess casually leans into him or drags her fingertips over his bare arm or flashes that vibrant grin at him.

But he's drunk. That's all this is. He's drunk.

* * *

They get home late, and Jess makes him drink a full glass of water before ushering him into his room. She sets another bottle of water and a few Ibuprofen on his nightstand before ruffling his hair and leaving him with a soft spoken, "Goodnight, Nick." He kicks off his shoes and wiggles out of his pants before shutting off the light and collapsing into bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night there's a soft knock on his door, and Nick sits up drowsily and looks over to see who it is.

"Nick?"

It's Jess, sheepishly peering into his room. She steps inside, closing the door silently behind her. He's still half asleep as he watches her walk up to his bedside. Nick swivels so he can face her, his legs draped over the edge of the mattress. Nick blinks blearily, trying to figure out what she might need from him this late.

She looks at him for a moment, nervously chewing on her lower lip. Then she reaches down and pulls her red dress up over her head and drops it to the floor. Nick's eyes go wide as he takes her in, all that bare skin gleaming in the moonlight: the swell of her hips, the curve of her waist, the gentle lift of her breasts, the defined muscle of her thighs. Jess blushes and ducks her head slightly as she drops one shoulder. The slight action makes the long curls of her hair cascade over the delicate lines of her shoulders and collarbone.

Jess looks up and smiles at him, soft and sleepy, affection in her crystal blue eyes. "Nick," she says, barely above a whisper.

He tentatively reaches out to cup her breast, and she shivers at the contact. He tilts his head up to watch her reaction, holding his breath as if this would all disappear the moment he lets it go. He brushes his thumb over her nipple. She lets out a shaky exhale and breathlessly says, " _Nick_."

"Nick," she gasps as he leans forward to press his lips to her pulse point, her fingers threading through the strands of his hair. He lightly sinks his teeth into the skin of her neck, and she gasps his name again.

He's briefly reminded of their roommates who can probably hear them even at this late hour, so he reluctantly pulls away from her. " _We have to be quiet,"_ he murmurs, so low that he can barely hear his own voice.

She looks at him through her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed and her lips bright red. He stares at her lips for a few seconds, and swallows nervously. She licks her lips and nods, and he leans up to kiss her when-

His alarm goes off. Nick jolts up in bed, wide awake, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. He looks to his left, and Jess isn't there. She never was. It was a dream. An incredibly stupid, unrealistic dream that left him breathless and aching for it to be real.

Nick hits the _snooze_ button on his alarm clock and curls back up in bed, this time alone underneath the covers. He tries to go back to sleep but the rest of the body seems to have other plans. He can still see Jess every time he closes his eyes, the dream still burned into the back of his eyelids and the thrill of it still coursing through his bloodstream. And it feels almost illicit and wrong, because Jess is literally just across the hall, but he gets himself off to the fleeting memory of the dream: a brief glimpse of her hourglass figure, an echo of her whispering his name, and a pair of crystal blue eyes cloudy with want.

Afterwards, when he's lying in bed and counting down the seconds until he has to get up and get ready for work, it hits him just how disgusting he is. Jess is his _friend_. She lives across the hall from him. She was Abbi's teacher. She's Jess.

She's _Jess_.

Incredible, beautiful, breathtaking, sexy, Jess.

Nick groans and scrubs a hand over his face. This is the last thing he needs right now. 3.8 billion in the women and he has to want the only one that he can't have. Maybe this isn't anything serious. He was pretty drunk last night, and he's never thought that Sleeping Nick was particularly trustworthy. He hasn't been with anybody since Caroline and now it's all catching up to him. It's probably just lust getting tangled up with their friendship, nothing but a dumb, fleeting crush. This is Sleeping Nick just projecting his pent-up libido onto the most convenient female form, the first woman after Caroline that was actually nice to him. He's never been this close of friends with a woman before. He's just being an idiot. In a few days this will all blow over, and it'll be like it never even happened.

* * *

It does not go away.

Nick spends the next two weeks enraptured by those thoughts and images of her, even though he knows that he's being a complete clown for even considering the possibility. He's supposed to be getting over this meaningless attraction. He's not supposed to stare into her huge blue eyes or at the soft curve of her smile or notice the long line of her neck when she tips her head back and laughs. He's not supposed to let his gaze linger on her tiny waist or the long stretch of her legs or the enticing dip of her collar bone. He's _especially_ not supposed to think about how good her ass looks in those tiny shorts or the way the low neckline of her sundress pushes her breasts up or the shapely curves of her hips and thighs when she's wearing that soft pink robe.

But he can't help it, he can't escape the infectious nature of her joyful enthusiasm and the way she brightens up any room the minute she walks into it. He can't help the way his stomach flips over when she laughs at one of his stupid jokes or the way his heart stutters when she smiles and looks up at him through her dark eyelashes. She makes his chest light and he finds himself looking forward to any spare moment that he can spend with her, even if they're just sitting on the couch together. And as much as he tries to fight it, those feelings just keep growing stronger until he can't deny the fact that he's falling for her.

 _Jess is your roommate._ He reminds himself as he stares down his reflection in the bathroom mirror while brushing his teeth. Jess' voice echoes through the shower curtain as she sings along to some pop song that sounds vaguely familiar, and Nick forces himself to concentrate on the minty taste of his toothpaste instead of the fact that she's wet and naked less than ten feet away from him. _She's your friend. Best friend, even. God, what if Schmidt finds out? No way in hell are we ever letting Schmidt catch wind of this. Poor guy would probably faint._ Nick leans in towards the sink to rinse out his mouth. _Jess is off limits. You're never going to be able to have her. Let her go._

He tells himself this every day, reminds himself over and over again in case he forgets. He repeats his inner mantra when his fingers itch to reach out and grab the soft skin of her wrists to interlock their fingers together. When he's staring at the dark waves of her hair and wondering what they smell like, or how the locks would feel if he gently combed his fingers through them. When he wants to wrap his arms around her, to press her tight against his chest and never let go. When he catches himself staring at her pink lips and desperately wanting to discover what they taste like, how they would feel pressed against his own.

He's not sure when he started to develop feelings for her, but then again maybe he's had them this entire time. It's starting to make sense why everyone seemed to think they were together, first Caroline and then his Ma, and Nick wonders what they saw that he didn't notice until just now. That night at the bar seemed to open the floodgates and now he can't escape the fact that he has feelings for her. He used to be able to brush them off without a second thought, because of course she wouldn't be interested in him. Who would? He's grumpy, he takes everything too seriously, and he's never been anything special to look at. Jess is amazing and incredible and beautiful and she deserves so much more than what he can give her. But that doesn't stop the dreams where she dances in and out of his subconscious, glimpses of flirtatious winks and long legs that promise him things that the real Jess would never want from him.

And yet he can't help but wonder if there's even the slightest possibility that she might reciprocate his feelings. He overthinks every one of her glances in his direction and even her most casual gestures, trying to tease out whether they're strictly platonic or if there's something else lurking underneath the surface. He savors every time she brushes up against him, even the slightest touch of her fingers on his wrist is enough to make his mouth go dry and send a shiver down his spine. It's just as much terrifying as it is exhilarating that she can elicit such a strong reaction from him. The novelty of it is especially striking after the years of lukewarm affection he'd had from Caroline as they grew apart and the bonds of their marriage slowly disintegrated.

Somehow, despite making a fool of himself approximately a thousand times a day, Nick manages to keep Jess from noticing his sudden realization. Or maybe she has realized, and she's just being polite about it. As the days go by his self-restraint slowly wears down until he feels like it'll only take the slightest nudge for him to finally make his move. He _knows_ it's a bad idea; the odds of this catastrophically blowing up in his face are a thousand to one. He never used to be a dreamer, but then he met Jess. That one potential success is so tempting that it almost seems worth the risk.

* * *

The opportunity lands in his lap a few days later when they finally manage to land the Deschanel contract, and there's a mandatory reception to further schmooze up to what will be the firm's most significant case to date.

Nick paces outside of Jess's closed bedroom door, wiping his palms on the front of his slacks and trying to fight the urge to chicken out from asking Jess to be his plus one. He'll go stag and hang out by the punch bowl all night. Or he could take Schmidt? He loves these dumb corporate galas, he's always so eager for any chance to network his way up the ladder. _He's such a damn fool_.

Why is he nervous? It's just a date. Not even a date. He could pitch it as them going as 'just friends.' It'll be a friend helping a friend, like at that wedding they went to together. He needs Jess to attend this gala with him so he won't be alone and bored out of his mind, and he's inviting her to come along. But it feels like a date. He _wants_ it to be a date.

It occurs to him that he hasn't asked a woman out on a date in over a decade. Caroline doesn't count, because there wasn't any risk to what her response would be when they were already together. What if Jess says no? She's allowed to say no and he can feel the sting of rejection already. _Get it together, Miller!_ he scolds himself. Ugh, why is he so sweaty? He needs to get out of his own head. He gathers up his courage and knocks on her door.

"Hey, Nick!" Jess smiles at him as she peers out into the hallway. It appears that she's fresh out of the shower, wrapped up in a pale blue towel, her skin still a little damp. "What's up?"

He swallows down the lump in his throat and tries to remember what he'd rehearsed nearly a hundred times last night as he lay awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying out different options in the dark quiet of his room. But now he can't seem to remember anything, the words are all jumbled up in his head as Jess stares expectantly at him.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a flash of concern coming over her features. "You're sweating an awful lot. Do you have a fever?"

"I'm fine," he manages to spit out.

Jess' brow furrows. "You look like you're in pain."

Nick can feel the sweat pooling at his lower back and he clears his throat. "We got the Deschanel case."

"Oh! That's great."

"Yeah. There's uh, a reception thing. Friday night."

She smiles, looking a little confused. "Sounds like fun."

"Do you wanna come?" Nick resists the urge to cringe at his own words. _Ugh, that's how you ask her? Like she's tagging along with you to the drugstore or the DMV?_ At least he got some version of the words out.

"As your plus one?"

Nick nods.

"Sure!" she agrees brightly, but then falters. "But wait...that won't be weird, right? I mean, if the people you work with know about the divorce, and now you bring me along. Don't want them to think I'm your mistress or something."

 _Yeah, like he gives a damn what those bastards think_. He shrugs. "The rumor mill would be even worse if I brought Schmidt."

"Or Winston. He'd do his Theodore K. Mullins bit all night." Jess laughs. "Well, as long as you're sure, then yes. I'd love to."

"Great." He nods. "Yeah, great. Um, Friday at 9, black-tie."

"Got it." She gives him a jaunty little salute. "Sounds like a plan. You already know where to pick me up."

"Yep." Nick gives her a thumbs-up and immediately regrets it. _God, you idiot._

Jess smiles again at him before she shuts the door. Nick escapes to the safety of his own room, barely managing to hold back his celebration until his own door is shut. _It's a date._ Well, not quite a date. But mostly a date.

* * *

Nick fidgets with his tie for the hundredth time, trying to get it just right. He's wearing his very best suit, the white dress shirt that's fancy enough to need actual cufflinks, his face freshly shaven and Schmidt's stolen hair gel taming his hair into something half-decent. He checks his watch and looks himself over in the mirror one last time. _Alright Miller, you got this._

He raps his knuckles on Jess' door, trying his best to ignore the way his stomach feels like it's tied up in knots from all the anxious tossing and turning he did last night in anticipation of today.

"I'll be right out!" Jess calls from the other side. "Just two more minutes."

"Alright." Nick resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she's not ready yet. But then again, he's a good bit ahead of schedule. "I'll be out in the living room."

"Okay! Five minutes, tops. I swear."

Nick chuckles as he heads out into the main room of the loft. He makes himself comfortable on the couch, and wrings his hands together as he reminds himself that staring at his watch won't make the seconds tick by any faster.

Jess appears a few minutes later, and she looks incredible. Her snug, dark red-purple dress clings to her figure and shows off her curves. She's wearing contacts tonight instead of her usual glasses. Her makeup highlights her big blue eyes. Her hair is swept up into a fancy updo leaving her neck and shoulders elegant and bare. She leaves him speechless, but then again she's been doing that a lot lately. All he can do is stare before she breaks the silence.

"Well?" she asks, holding her hands out at her sides.

"Perfect," he says with an impressed smile and Jess grins back. He stands up from the couch and runs his hands over the front of his jacket, brushing off the nonexistent dirt there. He'd used up almost an entire lint brush on the suit earlier. "Do you have a coat?"

"Oh, right!" Jess dashes off to her room and reemerges a second later, a shimmery gold scarf wrapped around her shoulders.

"That's it? You're gonna freeze."

Jess waves him off. "Oh please, I'll be fine."

Nick rolls his eyes and holds the front door open for her. "Well don't come crying to me when you get cold later."

"I won't," she says with a smile as she waits for him to lock the door behind them. "You look nice, by the way. All cleaned up and fancy."

His heart leaps up into his throat and Nick bites down on his lower lip to fight back a smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

The firm really pulled out all the stops for their new client. They've even gone so far as to book a ballroom in the nicer part of town at what's gotta be the most overly extravagant hotel Nick has ever stepped foot in. He tries not to gape and make a fool of himself as he takes it all in: the huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the live band playing up on the small stage, the tuxedo-clad servers bustling around in the background with cocktails and hors d'oeuvres as the assorted guests mingle about.

Nick feels overwhelmingly out of place. He's incredibly glad that Jess agreed to tag along with him, because otherwise he'd be completely lost. They linger at one of the standing tables on the edge of the room, getting tipsy on ridiculously overpriced champagne, giggling to each other as they people-watch over the crowd and talk about meaningless little things. It's relaxed and easy the way it always is with Jess. For the first time he's actually _enjoying_ being at one of these work events, and it's entirely thanks to her.

A few of his colleagues give the two of them an odd look, but Nick does his best to ignore it. He knows what it must look like, for him to show up to an event like this with a woman on his arm that isn't his wife, but it's none of their damn business. For the most part people don't even seem to notice it. Nick keeps his personal life private, and so do nearly all of his colleagues. There's no annual company picnic, they don't chit-chat by the coffee pot, people don't keep photos of their families on their desks. He hasn't told any of his co-workers about his divorce, although it's likely obvious with the way he had practically lived at the office for weeks and how Caroline had dropped off a box of his things in the middle of the workday.

The night goes on, and Jess keeps glancing wistfully towards the dance floor where a few couples slowly swing to the rhythm of the live band. Maybe it's the buzz of the champagne or the way she looks so pretty tonight, but he feels like throwing caution to the wind. He'd do just about anything she asked, even if that means making a fool of himself in front of all his co-workers.

Nick swirls around the remaining bit of champagne in his glass. "Do you wanna dance, Jess?"

"I thought you didn't dance." Jess looks at him with a mix of surprise and confusion.

He shrugs. "Do _you_ want to?"

A slow smile spreads across her face. "Yeah."

She leaves her wrap and purse at the table and lets Nick lead her to the dance floor. Jess sets her hand on his chest and takes his hand in hers.

Nick swallows nervously, that fluttering in his stomach kicking into high gear as he gingerly rests his hand on the dip of her lower back. "I'm not very good at this," he warns her. "You're gonna have to teach me."

Jess smiles warmly at him. "It's easy. Just don't step on my toes."

"No promises," he teases as they start to sway back and forth to the music.

She ducks her head slightly as she laughs at his joke and her hand slides up his chest to drape over the curve of his shoulder. Jess looks up at him again, and Nick can feel his heart stutter in his chest. It's almost like everything around them has faded away, leaving just him and Jess as she gently guides him to the slow swing of the beat. Nick always thought that it was absurdly unrealistic to think that you could care about someone so deeply that it was like you were the only ones in the world. That it was just some unachievable fantasy dreamt up by Hallmark to sell their cheesy romance movies.

But here he is. There's been this fog around his life and with Jess, all of a sudden it's gone. Part of him almost feels like a teenager again. It's like he's back at senior prom, dancing with the girl he has a crush on, hoping that his hand isn't too sweaty and trying to figure out if she likes him back.

His hand flexes on her back, and Jess leans in a little closer towards him. Nick breathes in the smell of her perfume, flowery and almost cloyingly sweet. He stares out over her shoulder to regain his bearings as they move in a slow circle. This is all he's wanted for the past two weeks, maybe even longer. He wants to savor this moment for as long as he can, to commit every bit of it to memory so he can replay it later.

Jess rises up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear and Nick laughs, ducking his head down towards her shoulder. He straightens and looks down at her, eyes drifting to her bright red lips. And maybe it's his imagination, but could swear he hears her breath hitch. He lets himself drift ever so slightly towards her for half a second. But then the music drops off and there's the muffled sound of polite clapping and he remembers where they are. They're in the middle of a goddamn ballroom surrounded by hundreds of his coworkers and their guests. This isn't where their first kiss should happen. _Not like this._

Nick clears his throat and stares down at his feet as he takes a step back. His hands linger slightly on her form before he reluctantly lets her go.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jess teases him as her hands drift up to fiddle with his tie. "You're a great dancer."

He laughs, a nervous energy boiling up in his chest from having her in such close proximity. "That wasn't dancing. I can sway. But I don't _dance_."

Jess laughs and brushes her hand over his lapel before stepping away. "Well, I think you did just fine."

She meanders back to their table and Nick trails after her like some kind of love-sick puppy. They fall back into their easy banter, and he honestly can't tell whether or not they're flirting. It sure as hell feels like it, what with the way Jess leans in towards him, the way she keeps setting her hand on his arm and shoulder, the glimmer in her eyes as she looks up at him. Nick's been out of the game for so long that he has no clue how to flirt anymore, but he's trying his damn best, and for all he can tell it almost seems to be working.

"I'm going to go get a drink," she says. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

He quickly glances at his watch. "I better not. I've got to drive us home."

"Oh, gosh." Jess clicks her phone on to check the time. "Wow, time flew by, didn't it? Alright, I'll be right back."

Nick smiles as he watches her go, feeling invincible. Things are going even better than he could have hoped. Jess' phone buzzes on the table, the screen lighting up as a new text message comes through, catching Nick's eye.

 _Sam: been thinking about u all day... u free tonight?_

His heart sinks. There's a chance that it could just be nothing. For all he knows, it could be Jess' cousin Samantha who wants to call later to talk about a chocolate chip cookie recipe. But the sour feeling in his gut is telling him not to be naive. Jess is a beautiful woman, of course Nick's not the first guy to notice it. This is what he expected, after all. She probably has loads of guys chasing after her, all of them without the baggage of a recent divorce or a kid. Whoever this Sam guy is, he's easily a hundred times better suited to Jess than Nick is. It's the truth, as much as Nick hates to admit it.

Jess gets back from the bar a moment later, and Nick swallows down his disappointment and pastes on a smile.

"Man, even the wine is fancy," Jess giggles and sips at her glass. "Tell you a secret, I still can't taste the difference."

Nick forces a laugh and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I know. Just last week you mixed a white wine and pinot noir to make what you called DIY-rosé."

Jess smiles and shrugs. "Hey, it worked."

A moment passes as Nick looks out over the crowd milling about in the ballroom. _Should he just come out and say it? Or would she think he was going through her phone and freak out?_ He turns back to Jess and tries his best to sound casual. "By the way, you got a text while you were gone."

"Oh, thanks." Jess sets down her glass and unlocks her phone, scrolling through her messages.

"So uh, who's Sam?"

Jess blushes and picks the phone up off the table to hold it closer to her chest. "It's nothing, just this guy I've kind of been seeing here and there."

Nick clenches his jaw for a second, fighting down the wave of jealousy. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, seemingly embarrassed. "It's a casual thing, you know, to get over Spencer."

"That's..." He lets out the breath that's caught up in his throat. "That's great, Jess."

"Really?" She looks up at him, and he can see the vulnerability in her eyes. "You think so?"

Nick remembers what Schmidt told him about when Jess first moved in, how she'd torn herself up worrying over what she'd done wrong to make her asshole ex-boyfriend cheat on her. She deserves this. The confidence boost has done her good. She looks happy and excited, and it'd be incredibly selfish for him to take that away from her.

"Yeah. Do your thing, girl."

Jess laughs and turns back to her phone, thumbs flying over the keyboard as she taps out a response. Nick looks over the crowd again, trying to find his way to escape the situation before he inevitably says something stupid to ruin everything. He spots Meriwether in her emerald dress and blazer among the crowd and lets out an internal sigh of relief. She's all the way across the hall chatting with two well-dressed men that he can only assume are their new clients.

"I'm going to go check in with my boss," Nick explains, gesturing over his shoulder.

"Sure," Jess agrees, still looking at her phone with a slight smile. "I'll just mingle."

Meriwether seems pleased with Nick's initiative and introduces him as "one of the best partners at our firm."

Nick does his whole hand shaking and ass-kissing routine on auto-pilot, his thoughts still stuck across the room where Jess is chatting with Russell, one of the other senior partners. He still can't believe that he'd ever even thought that he had even the slightest chance with Jess. She's incredible and he's just... Nick. He's a mess who breaks everything he touches. He's not the kind of guy that someone like Jess deserves.

He vows to keep to himself from now on, to not get in the way of her happiness. He's lucky to have her as a part of his life, even if they're just friends. The last thing he wants is to lose her.

The night comes to a close, and before he knows it they're standing out in the chilly evening air as they wait in line for the valet. Jess shivers, her flimsy scarf barely doing anything to help keep her bare arms warm. To her credit, she doesn't complain about it, if only because she's too stubborn to admit that he was right. Nick sighs and shrugs out of his suit jacket.

"Oh, Nick, you don't have to-"

"Just take the coat, Jessica."

She blushes slightly as he sets it on her shoulders. "Thanks, Nick."

"Anytime," he tells her, and he means it. He shoves his hands into his pockets and stares down at his dress shoes.

* * *

They get back to the loft and Jess kicks off her heels right after the doors of the elevator slide closed. Her cheeks are still flushed from her last glass of wine, and she has to hold onto Nick's arm to keep her balance as she steps out of her shoes. She bends over to pick them up from the ground, and his coat slips slightly off one of her shoulders.

Jess straightens and slips his jacket off with one hand, the other holding up her shoes. "Thanks again for letting me tag along. That was really fun."

"Yeah," Nick says with a slight smile and takes his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder. "It was nice having you along."

"Yep. If you ever need a friendly plus one, I'm your gal."

"Right." He frowns down at his shoes. Of course it wasn't a date. He's an idiot. Jess was just trying to be a good friend, and he read into it. He projected his stupid crush onto her and saw something that wasn't there at all.

The elevator doors open and she follows him back into 4D. He lingers for a minute in the hallway between their rooms, not saying anything, just looking over her. A heavy silence falls between them, and all Nick can hear is the pounding of his heart, the ringing of the blood rushing through his ears.

"Goodnight, Miller," she whispers.

"Goodnight, Day."

Her bedroom door shuts with a soft _click_. Nick stares at it for a moment, fighting off the irrational urge to knock or go after her, finishing that kiss that almost happened out there on the dance floor.

That night Dream Jess is wearing the velvet dress she wore to the gala, but it's sinfully tight and has a slit over one leg that runs all the way up to her hip. When Nick reaches out for her she laughs at him, bitter and mean. She pushes him away before disappearing from his memory like a wisp of smoke. Even Sleeping Nick knows that she's too good for him.

 _God, he's pathetic._


	24. It's Casual

"Schmidt, you are a grown man," Nick says, leaning his elbows on the kitchen island. "You and Cece have been seeing each other for what, over two months? Just ask her to be your girlfriend."

"Maybe if I were a common man like you, _Nicholas_." Schmidt pours himself a bowl of his needlessly expensive granola. "No, I need more than that. That's why I'm throwing this baller event. It's going to happen this Saturday night, and it is going to be epic."

Nick rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee. "You don't need some big party to prove yourself or make her jealous."

"That's not what it's about," Schmidt says defensively.

"I agree with Nick," Winston adds and peels a banana. "You guys are practically a couple already."

"We're not a couple," Schmidt cuts in quickly. _Sounds like that's a sore spot_. "It's casual."

"Ugh, I don't know how you can have something like that." Nick groans. "Why aren't people honest with each other anymore? It didn't used to be so complicated. Now you've got all these dating apps and hookup pals-"

"What's Old Man Miller complaining about today?" Jess asks as she walks around the corner, yawning and stretching her arms high above her head.

"Casual relationships," Winston explains with a knowing glance in Nick's direction.

Schmidt pours her a mug of coffee and she takes it with a sleepy grin. Her hair is all mussed up and she's wearing one of her signature pajama outfits, the pale blue one with the multicolored balloons. She sits down on the stool next to Nick at the kitchen island, and he pointedly ignores the purplish bruise on her neck.

Nick thought he heard someone come in late last night when he was still up working on preliminary case documents. There had been two muffled voices and a pair of footfalls down the hallway, a soft gasp followed by the thud of a bedroom door slamming shut. It doesn't take an expert New Orleans detective to connect the dots.

He still has yet to meet this Sam guy, and he has no desire ever to. Doesn't seem like the type of guy he'd get along with, someone who calls up girls in the middle of the night and then doesn't even have the decency to stay and make her breakfast the next morning. He supposes this way he doesn't have to face the reality that Sam is likely a hundred times better than he is. This way he can imagine Sam is just as doughy and average looking as he is, someone who is living on borrowed time until Jess kicks him to the curb.

"I just don't get the whole hookup thing," Nick explains, trying not to let too much bitterness seep into his tone.

"Oh, but it's fun!" Jess smiles brightly, looking only slightly tired from whatever evening activities she was obviously engaged in last night. "I mean, what Sam and I have is so great. No labels, no pressure, just me and him taking the train to No Pants City. And the sex, oh man. _The best._ Last night I left my body, went up to heaven, saw my grandparents, thought it was weird that I saw my grandparents, came back down, I became a werewolf, I scared some teenagers, I came back into my body-"

Nick pulls a face. The last thing he wants to imagine is Jess with some other guy. "Ugh, TMI Jess."

"So that was you last night?" Schmidt teases.

Winston smirks. "Yeah, I thought that was two bums fighting in the alleyway."

Jess narrows her eyes at them. "No. It was me. Having sex."

"I mean, sure, a hookup can be fun." Nick takes another sip of his coffee. "But aren't we all a little old for that?"

"Well, _I_ like to have fun," she says with a tight smile.

"So did I. Back in college." Nick can't help the annoyed edge to his words as he mutters, "And then I grew up."

Jess frowns at him. A tense silence settles over the table, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Nick stares down at the table and pointedly avoids meeting Jess' gaze. Schmidt and Winston share a significant look from the opposite ends of the kitchen island.

After a long minute, Jess sets her mug down on the countertop with slightly more force than needed. "I'm gonna go take a shower," she says sharply before storming off down the hall towards her room.

The door slams shut and Nick deflates slightly, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Dude, what the fuck was that about?" Winston asks.

Nick groans. Might as well just come out and say it. "I'm not really sure how to put this but..." He clears his throat nervously. "I think I might have feelings-"

"For Jess." Winston and Schmidt finish the sentence for him in unison.

"Wait, what?" He looks at the two of them in confusion. "You knew?"

"It's not subtle," Schmidt says.

 _Shit._ "Does she know?"

"Amazingly enough, no," Winston says with a shake of his head.

Schmidt rolls his eyes. "She's the only one in this loft more oblivious than you."

Nick lets out a long sigh. "Alright, I know she's sort of with Sam right now. So what's my next move? What should I do about it?"

"What should you do about it? Nothing," Winston says, and Schmidt nods in agreement. "You'll ruin the loft dynamic."

"You think I haven't tried that? I didn't want this to happen. But no matter what I try, it hasn't gone away." Nick frowns down at his coffee. "I _really_ like her."

"Yeah, so do we." Winston cuts in, his tone serious. "That's why you need to move on. Because there's no scenario in which this doesn't blow up in your face."

Schmidt nods. "She's finally getting back on her feet. The last thing she needs is her recently divorced roommate trying to make a move on her."

Nick knows they're right, but it doesn't lessen the sting of their words. It was one thing to know that Jess was too good for him, but to hear it confirmed out loud by the people closest to him just makes it worse.

"Look, man." Winston leans in to give him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "We're trying to protect you too. You and Caroline _just_ separated. Maybe it's time for a little break."

"You just escaped from a fifteen year relationship. Don't leap straight into another one. Get out there, see all the game that you've been missing," Schmidt says, putting a particular emphasis on the word _escape_ that leaves a sour taste in Nick's mouth. "Listen, come out to my party on Saturday. We'll fix you up. Get you a rebound."

Maybe the guys are right. There's a voice in the back of his head that agrees with them, as much as he hates to admit it. He's clinging to Jess a little too much, the sting of losing Caroline still raw. He should be taking some time off from serious relationships, get some air to clear his head and lick his wounds. Jess will still be across the hall when he's figured himself out. And if she's moved on by then, well he already knew it wasn't meant to be.

* * *

Nick's too old for this. He's too old to be gelling up his hair, to be putting on this much cologne and wearing a shirt with one too many buttons undone that leaves a good bit of his chest exposed. It's like Valentine's Day but even worse, because that time he was just trying to help Schmidt score. Now there's this pressure on him to actually move on. The focus is all on him, and his two best friends keep throwing these knowing glances in his direction as they gesture towards women that they're delusional enough to think would actually be attracted to someone like him.

He finishes off the last of his beer, willing the alcohol to do its job and help calm his nerves. This is ridiculous. What is he even doing here? He wishes he were back at home, relaxing on the couch and listening to Abbi tell him all about her plans for her science fair project until she falls asleep on the other end of the line. Instead he's here at the bar, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and trying not to let his thoughts spiral out of control and down the pit of self loathing where they usually live.

It all feels like he's fighting against his basic instincts, trying to pretend he's someone that he isn't. This isn't who Nick Miller is. Nick Miller is a workaholic lawyer with an eleven-year-old daughter that he loves more than life itself. He's grumpy and sleep deprived and doesn't like loud clubs or the rowdy patrons that frequent them. He wears ties and slacks and dress shirts that are all the way tucked in, unlike the dumb thing Schmidt did to his green henley before they left the house.

 _"Just tell me, do I tuck or do I not tuck?"_

 _"Tuck front, untuck back."_

 _"That's absurd."_

 _"That's fashion. Business in the front, party in the back."_

 _"What, like some kind of waist mullet?"_

 _"It's not a waist mullet, it's a Half-Tuck."_

 _"It's idiotic."_

 _"Just do it, man. Trust me."_

Nick has to pay close attention to where his hands are so he doesn't accidentally mess up Schmidt's hard work. He stuffs one into his pocket and grips his empty beer bottle with the other. He glances around the bar, trying to figure out where Schmidt and Winston are and calculating his chance of making a clean getaway. It's not like anyone would really miss him here.

"Hiya, big boy. What's your poison?" Jess' voice echoes behind him, and Nick spins around to face her as she grins brightly at him.

"What is going on here?" he asks as he stares at the old-timey leotard she's wearing and attempts to figure out what on earth she's doing.

Jess ignores his question and lifts up the tiny, glitter-covered hat that's held around her head with a string of elastic. "Can I wet your whistle?" she asks, still using her breathy character voice.

He looks her up and down, just in case he missed something. "I'm confused, Jess."

"I'm a shot girl," she explains with a smile. "The other girl cancelled last minute. Schmidt needed someone and I needed the extra cash."

Nick's brow furrows. "Why do you need the money?"

She groans. "Because casserole season is over and the Shanty is getting stingy with hours." Jess shrugs and gives the bottle of tequila she's holding a slight shake. "So momma's gotta work for tips on the weekend."

"Jess..."

"Hey, I'm fine," she reassures him, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes that makes Nick a little uneasy.

He frowns at her. "If you're sure..."

"I am." Jess shifts her grip on the tequila and adjusts her hat. "Well, if you need a shot, you know where to find me," she says with a slight shimmy.

Nick laughs. "I will."

"You look nice, by the way." She glances over him quickly. "It's always weird to see you in jeans."

He quirks an eyebrow in confusion. "Weird?"

"Good weird," she clarifies with a wink before leaving him to work the crowd.

The night goes on and Schmidt and Winston keep sending girls in his direction. Nick tries to talk to them, he really does, but he can't help but compare them to Jess and then finds himself disappointed every time they fall short of his expectations. It's driving him crazy, the way he'll be trying to talk to a woman who's interested in him only to be distracted when he spots Jess out the corner of his eye.

Jess does her very best, but she's a terrible shot girl. He has half a mind to buy a shot from her, just to give her that confidence boost. It's probably a good thing that she's wearing that ridiculous costume, because Nick's half-drunk brain is apparently feeling particularly self-sabotaging tonight and thinks it might be a good idea to do a body shot off her, just to see what her collarbone would actually feel like under his lips.

Nick groans and gives his head a little shake. This is exactly what he's trying to fight off. No matter how many times he tries to push her away his subconscious clings a little tighter to her. It's incredibly frustrating, to say the least.

There's a shatter from across the room, and Nick spots Jess on the ground, picking up broken pieces of glass off the floor.

He walks up to her and crouches down to help her sweep up the mess before someone steps on a shard of glass and cuts their foot open. "Hey, Jess-"

"I'm _fine_ , Nick," she says, but Nick can hear the way her voice wavers and there are tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Will you stop that," she bites out, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You've been all nice to me lately, and I know you feel bad for me because I lost my job, but this is _my_ fault, okay? So just... let me figure this out on my own."

So she _has_ noticed. But she still doesn't think he actually cares about her, or not in the way he actually does where he does stupid things like daydream about kissing her when he sees her from across the room. Nick's not sure if he should feel disappointed or relieved.

"You want me to be mean? I'll give you mean, Jess." He takes a deep breath and does his best to channel what Abbi calls his _grumpy turtle frown_. "This is the easiest job in the whole world! The only thing easier than this is passing out cigarettes to prisoners. And what if I wanted to take a body shot off you? Oh, yeah! I can't. Because you're wearing a turn-of-the-century bathing costume."

Jess gives a short huff of a laugh and fiddles with a few broken pieces of glass.

"How's this? Are you getting mad or are you happy with this?"

She gives him a slightly watery half-smile and rubs at the smeared makeup under her eye. "It's good. That's really good."

The corner of his mouth turns up, but he fights off the smile to yell, "So stop feeling sorry for yourself, kid, and get up on that bar and shake that piece of plywood that you call an ass!"

"That's too far!" She yells back, and Nick does feel a pang of regret at his harsh choice of words. But that determined fire is back in her eyes as she pushes herself back up on her feet.

"Yeah, yeah, I agree," he says apologetically. "You've got a great ass."

"That is too far!" Jess points accusingly at him and makes her way through the crowd towards the bar as an incredibly annoyed-looking Mike comes up with a broom to sweep up the mess.

Nick watches her climb up onto the bar, giving her hat a little tip in his direction before jumping into an overly-complicated tap dance routine. He grimaces at her antics. He can't even begin to imagine how she manages to do stuff like this, to throw caution to the wind and just be her quirky, ridiculous self in front of a bunch of strangers. And as much second-hand embarrassment as it gives him, he admires that she's not afraid to be so unapologetically _Jess_. It's one of his favorite qualities about her.

The crowd eats it up, cheering her on as she goes through her array of moves. Jess catches his eye in the crowd and gives him a wink as she does Jazz-hands and some weird kick-thing. He laughs and shakes his head at her, but she just smiles even brighter and keeps on dancing. Her hat slips down into her face and she splutters before adjusting it, and it's absurd and cute and quintessentially Jess.

 _Really?_ he thinks to himself as she holds her arms out and does a little spin. _This is the girl you had to fall in love with?_

His throat goes dry at the realization of what he just admitted to himself, but his ensuing freakout is drowned out by the crowd yelling, "Shot girl! Shot girl!"

"I'm a shot girl!" Jess cheers, victoriously holding a bottle of tequila in the air. She smiles out over the bar, but it falters after a second, her expression crumbling. "I'm a shot girl."

Nick's heart falls at the look on her face. Jess steps off the stage, leaving her bottle behind as she makes a beeline for the exit, surreptitiously staring down at the ground and wiping at her eyes.

"Jess!" He chases her out the door, fighting through the crowd to catch up to her.

He finds her sitting out on the curb, knees pulled up to her chest and makeup smeared dark under her eyes as she stares out over the dark street. It makes his chest ache just looking at her. Maybe he is being too nice to her lately, but she's vulnerable right now. She's his friend. Even if he didn't feel the way he does about her, he'd still want to help her.

Nick points at the spot on the sidewalk beside her. "Can I?"

She looks up at him and nods, her eyes still brimming with tears.

Nick slowly lowers himself down to sit next to her, ignoring the way his hip creaks in protest. _God, he's getting old_. They sit there for a while in silence, Jess' quiet sniffles barely audible over the cacophony of sounds echoing out of the bar.

"I'm not fine," she admits quietly.

He nods in understanding. "So what's wrong, Jess?"

"What am I doing, Nick?" Jess looks over at him, tears running down over her cheeks. Nick fights the urge to lean in and wipe them away with his thumb. "This isn't who I am. I'm a teacher. I'm not a shot girl."

"You're gonna be a teacher again, Jess," he says reassuringly. "You're gonna have a classroom and a bunch of snotty-nosed little brats who never listen to a word you say."

Jess laughs a little and gives him a watery smile. "You think so?"

"I know so." He bumps his shoulder up against hers.

She wipes away a few tears with the back of her hand. "Nick."

"Yeah, Jess?"

Jess bites down on her lip and looks at him again, eyes still watery. "Will you be mean to me one more time?"

Nick chuckles and shakes his head. Then he turns to her and screws up his face and bites out, "Look sharp, you dumbass!"

"You look sharp!" She yells back.

"You're a terrible shot girl! You got hoof hands and a plywood ass, kid!" He pokes at her stomach and she tosses her head back and laughs. "You call that a shot girl outfit, you dumbass?"

"I got mixed up," she giggles. "I thought it was a cigarette girl."

"That is what happened." Nick laughs and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to rest her head against his arm. "You look like a cigarette girl."

Nick's sitting there with Jess pressed against him, and Nick's heart feels so full he's sure it's going to burst. _Fuck this_ , he thinks to himself. _You care about her. Why hold back?_ He opens his mouth to tell her when his train of thought is interrupted by the loud hum of a motorcycle pulling up to a stop across the street. The guy climbs off and removes his helmet as he makes his way towards them.

"Hey, babe." He runs a hand through hair and smirks down at Jess.

"Hey." Jess stands up quickly and wipes the dirt off the back of her legs. She steps up on her tiptoes and motorcycle guy leans down slightly to give her a messy kiss on the cheek.

Nick rises to his feet and shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling like an awkward third wheel.

"Oh," Jess looks back over towards him. "Sam, this is my room-friend Nick."

"The lawyer?" he asks, one arm wrapped around Jess' waist.

"Yeah," Nick replies, his tone cold and clipped.

Jess shoots him a warning glare, which Nick does his best to ignore.

"Well, come on," Sam says with a grin, seemingly unaware of the exchange between Nick and Jess. "Let's get you back inside, shot girl."

Nick hangs back as he watches the two of them walk back into the bar. _He's an idiot._ Of course Jess would go for someone like that. Sam is tall and handsome and exciting. Nick's doughy and average and boring. Just looking at Sam's motorcycle gives him anxiety. How's he supposed to strap a carseat onto something like that? But Sam doesn't have to worry about those kinds of things. He's carefree and doesn't have any baggage for Jess to deal with. He's Old Man Miller and he's lived his whole life while Jess still has her whole life ahead of her filled with new experiences. She doesn't want to be tied down to someone like him.

He wipes a hand over his face before glancing over his shoulder at the bar. Then he pulls out his phone to send a quick text to Schmidt.

 _Have to duck out early. Don't wait up._

* * *

Over the following week, Nick does everything he can to try and put some space between him and Jess in the hopes that he can put a stop to whatever dumb stunt his heart is pulling. He puts in extra hours at the office, spends more time with Abbi, actually goes to the gym they have a family membership at. But all he has to show for his efforts is a pulled muscle and a small dent in his never-ending mountain of paperwork.

He tries being mean to her, picking at all their little differences and deliberately trying to start a fight with her. But his brain must have crossed signals because instead of being constantly irritated by her antics he starts to find all of her little quirks even more endearing. Some wire or nerve ending must have gotten mixed in his brain, because he walks away from their fights with this energy boiling underneath his skin that just makes him want her even more.

He's tumbling head over heels and no matter how hard he tries he just can't stop. It's terrifying to admit, but he's already half in love with her. But she's off-limits. She's still with that asshole Sam. Sometimes he can overhear them across the hall late at night, and it almost makes him sick to his stomach to listen to the hushed, high-pitched whines and breathy gasps that echo out of Jess' room. That certainly doesn't help him get rid of the dreams he keeps having about her, where she kisses him deep as they make love, gasps his name as she squirms beneath him, and holds him tight in her arms afterwards.

It's driving him crazy, to have her so close and yet so far. He's not quite sure how much longer he can last like this. An apartment opens up across the hall and Nick considers moving in for a while. He could easily afford it, especially since Caroline is downsizing by moving out of their old house and into a smaller townhome. Nick would have an extra room for Abbi and he'd be able to get some space to clear his head of Jess. But he must really be screwed, because he can't bring himself to go through with it. He hides under other excuses like cost and commitment, but he knows the real reason why he can't bring himself to move out of the loft. It's her. He leaves and that means it's really over. It was over before it even begun.

Jess sits across from him at the dining room table one evening, scrolling through her phone as she chews on bites of leftover casserole. "Oh my god," she says suddenly, her eyes wide in shock as she drops her phone down onto the table.

"Are you okay?" Nick asks, immediately shifting into dad mode. "What happened?"

"They want to interview me," Jess says in shocked disbelief. "The Willow School."

"Oh my god," Nick repeats, just as surprised and excited as she is. "Oh my god, Jess!"

She's absolutely beaming. "I know!"

Jess hops out of her seat and holds her arms out, and Nick pulls her into his embrace. That flutter in his chest kicks into high gear as he tucks his head over her shoulder and wraps his arms around her back. He lifts her a few inches off the ground in excitement, and she laughs and tightens the grip of her arms around his neck.

"What's going on out here?" Winston yells, coming out of the bathroom and into the hallway. "I'm trying to take a nap."

Schmidt pokes his head out of his bedroom. "What's with all the yelling?"

Nick reluctantly lets go of Jess, beaming proudly as he explains, "Jess got a teaching job."

"Hey!" Winston cheers, giving Jess a pat on the back.

"Finally," Schmidt agrees. "Does this mean I can stop covering you for the water bill?"

"Hey, Schmidt, be nice," Nick says and smacks him on the arm.

"I don't have a job yet," Jess corrects, a slight blush on her cheeks. "I have an interview."

"You have the job," Nick asserts. "As if they won't hire you."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not, I swear." Nick holds up a hand and draws an X over his chest. "Scout's honor. You're an amazing candidate. They'd have to be blind to not hire you."

Jess blushes even brighter and stares down at her hands. "Thanks, Nick."

Nick smiles at her for a moment before looking back at Schmidt and Winston, who are staring at him with matching looks of disapproval. He frowns slightly. _God, is he really that obvious?_

"Well, this calls for celebration." Schmidt says, a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. "You guys thinking what I'm thinking?"

A dangerous look comes over Winston's face. "Oh, I'm thinking what you're thinking."

Jess looks between the two of them with a mischievous grin. "True American?"

Winston and Schmidt both let out a loud cheer and high-five before heading off towards the liquor cabinet.

"True American?" Nick repeats, feeling entirely out of the loop.

"Oh, right!" Jess says with a bright smile. "You've never played. So it's 50% drinking game, 50% life-size Candyland." She pauses and reconsiders her words. "Well, it's more like 75% drinking, 20% Candyland. By the way, the floor is molten lava." She gestures towards the ground and starts to pull the dining room chairs into strategic positions. "It's actually 90% drinking, and it's got a loose Candyland-like structure to it. Well, with stakes."

"We doing Clinton rules?" Schmidt calls over his shoulder as he drags two cases of beer towards the coffee table.

Winston groans and tosses a few pillows around the floor. "Oh, no Clinton rules."

"You lost me again," Nick says apologetically.

Jess laughs. "It's pretty much the same thing, but with stripping. One time Schmidt and Winston lost at the end and had to go behind the iron curtain for 7 Minutes in Heaven." She jerks her thumb towards the blue metal sheeting on the opposite wall. "And there had to be a clear and present threat of tongue."

"We didn't kiss!" Winston insists as he places a bottle of Jack in the middle of the coffee table.

"Don't deny it, brother," Schmidt says as he carefully makes a circle of beer cans around the whiskey. He reaches out to squeeze Winston's arm. "We've been connected in a whole new way ever since."

Winston frowns and shoves him off. "We are _not_ and never call me 'brother' again."

Jess laughs and rolls her eyes at their antics.

As enticing as it is to think of anything that combines Jess and stripping, Nick knows his limits. "Maybe we should keep it simple, since I'm new to it."

"No worries." Jess winks at him. "It's so fun. You'll catch on super quick."

It turns out that True American is just dangerously unhealthy amounts of binge drinking combined with a lot of meaningless rules that seem to all revolve around Jess yelling out things that Nick can only vaguely remember reading in an American History textbook way back when he was in high school. They all get absolutely _plastered_ , including Nick. This might be the drunkest he's gotten since he graduated from college. It's almost like he's back in undergrad, binge drinking with Schmidt's frat on a Thursday afternoon and ignoring the 12-page paper he still needed to write that was due Friday morning.

The game goes on, and the rules start making more sense with every drink Nick has. It must be a myth that alcohol kills brain cells because he thinks right now is the smartest he's ever been. He calls out "JFK" and knocks back another beer as everyone cheers and follows suit. Nick smiles victoriously and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. He's really gotten the hang of this.

He and Jess form a team mid-game, and he piggy-backs her to the King of the Castle to snatch the win out from team Schminston at the last minute. Jess knocks back a shot from the bottle of Jack and lets out a victory yell. Nick cheers along with her as he clings to her legs to keep her from toppling off him.

They all end up drinking even more afterwards, Nick and Jess to celebrate their victory while Winston and Schmidt console their loss. They tell stories and make fun of each other and play truth-or-dare and it's everything Nick's missed about college, back when he was naive and free from responsibilities, back when he still thought his entire life was ahead of him.

Schmidt and Winston eventually pass out beneath the kitchen table, with Schmidt cradling Winston's head as Winston cradles an empty bottle of tequila. Nick sits with Jess on the couch, their knees knocking together as he twirls a lock of her hair, too drunk to remember that's not something he's allowed to do, that he's supposed to be getting over her. Jess doesn't seem to mind, though, so he keeps doing it, hoping that he'll actually remember this moment in the morning.

Jess lazily drops her head to rest on the couch cushion, smiling at him with those soft blue eyes and temptingly red lips. Nick has half a mind to lean in and kiss her, to taste what he's imagined a hundred times. And he might just be going insane, but he swears that she's looking right back at him with an intensity in her eyes that he can't quite comprehend. It makes his chest tight, and he can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears during that long moment where it feels like something's just about to happen between them. It's like the seconds right before a rainstorm, a heavy energy in the air that makes it hard to fill his lungs so he's stuck holding his breath as he stares at her lips and her face and tries to keep himself from doing something stupid like kiss her or tell her that he might be in love with her.

But nothing happens. Maybe if he saw Jess move even a millimeter towards him so he was sure, maybe he would. He knows that's a big, fat lie. He knows he's still too much of a coward to do it even when he's drunk and they can both blame it on the alcohol the next morning. The moment passes and Nick feels the pang of regret deep in his chest.

"Why are you with Sam?" he asks suddenly, too drunk to have a filter on what he's saying.

She shrugs. "He's different. I've never had something like this before."

Nick frowns. "I just- I think you could do a lot better."

Jess nods. "Yeah, maybe."

She smiles sleepily and reaches out to bop her finger on the tip of his nose. He scrunches his face up in response and she lets out a soft giggle. A few more minutes pass, just the two of them looking at each other, Jess' eyes slowly drooping shut. After a few valiant attempts to keep her head up she finally falls asleep, her head tipped forward to rest on Nick's shoulder. He lets her rest there for a while, too infatuated with her to let this moment end. But after a while there's an awful crick in his neck and his back protests at being tilted unevenly for so long.

"Hey Jess," he whispers.

"Mm?"

He smiles down at her. "You should probably get to bed."

She grumbles and turns to press her face into the fabric of his shirt sleeve. "Don' wanna get up."

Nick chuckles. "Well, you kinda have to."

"I'll sleep on the couch."

He sighs and stands up. Jess tumbles over and lands in the newly empty space on the couch. Then, against his better judgment, he scoops her up into his arms.

"This is good," she mutters, nuzzling her face into the front of his chest as he carries her off to her bedroom.

Nick bites down on his lip, dangerously close to saying something he knows he'll regret once he's sober. He tucks her into bed and fights off the urge to curl up beside her.

"Thanks," she mutters sleepily, nestling underneath the covers.

He leans in to press his lips to her forehead. "'Night, Jess."

"'Night, Nick."


	25. Stop doing that

The first time it happens he's so drunk that the words come out completely slurred. There's a sloppy grin on his face and his arm is heavy across her shoulders. Jess is just a touch past tipsy, where everything in the world is suddenly incredibly hilarious to her, and she giggles at nothing in particular as she drags him down the hallway, staring down at her feet so she doesn't trip.

"C'mon, Miller, let's get you to bed," she says, pulling him in the right direction. She slides her arm out from around his middle and he sways on his feet a few moments before settling heavily on the bed.

He's sitting on the edge of the mattress, smiling easily at her with half-lidded eyes. She laughs at his dopey expression and nudges his shoulders until he falls back onto the mattress and starts to kick off his shoes and his slacks. Nick flounders with the comforter while Jess watches in amusement, giggling at the way his ankles are still tangled up in the bottom of his pants. After a few seconds she takes pity on him, yanking his pants free and helping him straighten the blanket to cover most of him.

Nick makes a contented noise and nestles into the bed. "Thanks, honey."

Jess giggles a little, nervous and tipsy. She ruffles his hair and laughs again at the way his nose crinkles up in annoyance as he bats at her hand.

The next morning, Nick doesn't seem to remember anything that happened last night with any particular clarity, and she's too hungover to try to bring it up. She brushes it off as one of those weird moments fueled by foolhardy alcohol consumption and decides to not let herself read too much into it. _God, why does she keep doing this to herself? He never remembers any of it. Or even worse, maybe he remembers all of it and it still doesn't mean anything to him._ He smiles at her and hands her a plate of scrambled eggs before settling down with his own plate and a cup of coffee to read the newspaper. _God, she hates his stupid, perfect face. Stop making me fall in love with you_ , _Nick Miller!_

* * *

She still really hasn't gotten used to the fact that Schmidt and Cece are together. It's weird, because Schmidt can be a real asshole sometimes, but lately he's been on a bit of a sweet streak. They might even call him reformed; they haven't had to use the Douchebag Jar in weeks. Jess wonders if any of that is Cece's work. There's something charming about the way Schmidt looks at her, a genuine affection that shines through the douchebag persona he tries his best to maintain.

Cece has changed too. There's a genuine happiness to her features that puts a sparkle to her usual 'resting bitch face.' Of all the guys Cece's dated, Schmidt is far from the worst, even at his douchiest. Schmidt can be a mixed bag at times, but Jess really does care about him, and she thinks he feels the same way about her. Cece seems to bring that side out of Schmidt. She's glad that her two friends have been able to find happiness with each other, even if they're both too stubborn to admit it.

And maybe it's a little selfish, but it's nice to have her best friend over at the loft all the time, even if it's a little unsettling that she's wearing Schmidt's shirt and a pair of boxers while Jess makes them both brunch. Nick lingers in the kitchen while she works, teasing her incessantly while Cece sips at a cup of coffee, still waking up. She blinks her eyes blearily as she watches the two of them argue over their near-death experience in the parking lot just last week.

"Oh, you're always starting fights with everyone, Nick." Jess hip bumps him out of her way to the stove. "I mean, not everyone's out to get you."

Nick pokes her in the side and she squirms before swatting at his arm. "He had a gun, Jess! He was _literally_ out to get me."

She scoffs and snatches her spatula out of his hand before scrambling up the eggs. "Isn't Nick the most negative person you've ever met?" she asks Cece over her shoulder.

"I'm not negative; I'm being a realist. You don't know people like I do." He crosses his arms over his chest and does his full-on grumpy turtle face. "I don't have a job where I smile and people do what I want them to do. I don't live in whatever fairy-tale world you do."

Jess rolls her eyes and knocks her shoulder into him. "You never smile."

"A smile is a sign of weakness," he dead pans and Jess laughs.

"Did you want any of this?" Jess asks as she drops two pieces of bread into the toaster.

Nick shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Nah, I already ate early this morning."

"Then what are you doing pestering me for?" she asks with another laugh.

"Alright, alright." He throws his hands up in surrender. "I'll get out of your hair. Good to see you, Cece."

He disappears down the hall and there's a short moment of silence in the kitchen as Jess finishes up their brunch.

"You and Nick seem to be really getting along." Cece says casually, taking a sip of her coffee with feigned innocence.

Jess carefully scoops their eggs out onto two plates. "Yeah! He's been helping me get ready for my Willow School interviews."

Cece raises one perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "That's nice of him."

"Mhm." She places slices of avocado on their toast and then sets the plates on the kitchen island before sitting down beside Cece. "He's been really helpful."

"I'm sure," she says pointedly, spearing a strawberry and popping it into her mouth. "'Cause I think he's really into you."

"Nick?" Jess splutters, nearly spitting out an ill-timed drink of orange juice. "No. No! We're just friends."

"Are you kidding me?" Cece says in disbelief. "I saw the way he was looking at you. He was _totally_ flirting with you just now."

"Yeah, right," she scoffs. "Nick acts like that around all of his friends. It just feels different because I'm a woman."

"He definitely doesn't act that way around me. In fact, Nick hasn't really been dating at all," Cece suggests with a pointed look at Jess. "I know how you get, Jess. You can't just be friends with these guys. You can't separate these things out. I love you, babe, but you're clingier than Velcro."

"I'm not-" Jess huffs. "Nick and I are _friends_. That's it. He doesn't have any feelings for me."

"Oh, please. You don't think Nick hasn't thought about sleeping with you?" Cece says with a sly smile as Jess recoils.

Jess uses her fork to pick at her eggs. "You just think everyone wants to sleep with everyone all the time."

"They do. That's why I think that," Cece says with her usual self-assuredness.

Jess rolls her eyes. Cece is out of her mind. Why would Nick be into her? She's weird, her eyes are too big, and she's never been in a relationship with a guy where he didn't cheat on her, probably because of the way she's so vanilla and boring in bed. Cece thinks everyone wants to sleep with everyone, but that's because she's hot. The rules are different for hot girls. She turns guys' heads just by walking down the street or entering a room. People hardly even notice Jess whenever Cece's around. It's why she didn't like to hang out with Cece at the loft back when she first moved in. Schmidt and Winston kept tripping all over themselves trying to impress her and it would be like Jess didn't even exist anymore.

"I don't know, Ceec-"

"He _kissed_ you, Jess."

"Shh," Jess shushes her and looks around frantically. It would be just her luck for Nick to walk in right as they were talking about him.

Ever since that night she's done her best to act like the kiss never happened, to push away the memory and pretend like she was too drunk to know what she was doing. But _damn,_ that kiss. It hasn't been easy to forget. Every now and then she'll catch her gaze drifting towards Nick's lips, trying to recall the way they'd felt against hers, the slick slide of his open mouth that made fireworks go off behind her eyelids. She's dreamed about it once or twice when she went to bed after one too many glasses of pink wine, and she could feel the faint memory of his teeth teasing her lower lip, the rough stubble of his jaw against her palm, the lingering smell of his cologne and the taste of whiskey on his breath.

"That was _ages_ ago," Jess insists, blushing furiously. "Besides, you're the one who told me to stay away from him."

"It's different now that he's divorced," she explains, as if it's really that simple. "Plus, you totally still like him."

"What! No. I-" Jess huffs. "No! it was one drunken, accidental kiss. It meant nothing to me."

Cece looks at her skeptically. She opens her mouth to say something else when they're interrupted by Nick walking into the kitchen.

"Hey, Jess," he says with smile, rubbing his hands together. "I'm heading to the grocery store. Abbi needs a few things for her summer science fair project. Did you need anything?"

"Yes," Cece says quickly and then turns back Jess, who stares back at her in wide-eyed panic. "Jess, you should go with him, because then you can get that thing that you really need."

Nick glances skeptically between the two of them. "Oh, I wonder what that is."

Cece smiles, completely ignoring the death glare Jess is giving her. "Give her just a minute."

"Okay, well don't take too long." He checks his watch. "I've gotta go pick up Abbi this afternoon."

"Right-o, partner," Jess says with a jolly little salute.

Nick chuckles and shakes his head. "Alright, Jess."

He heads back down the hall towards his room and Cece leans in to whisper to Jess.

"Don't you hear how he says your name?" she says excitedly. " _Jess."_

"He's from Chicago," she hisses back. "That's just how he talks."

Cece ignores her. "And did you see his feet? A guy's feet point at what they want. His feet were pointing right at you."

Jess groans. "Why wouldn't his feet point at me? Otherwise, he's standing like a duck." She stands up to prove her point, but Cece remains unimpressed and unconvinced.

"Just trust me, Jess."

"No, you're reading way too far into this." Jess crosses her arms over her chest. "This is just because you're with Schmidt now. You're trying to push me into a relationship too fast; I'm fragile."

Cece rolls her eyes and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Please, you've been messing around with Sam since _forever_ now."

She frowns. "That's different."

"Jess!" Nick calls, re-emerging from his room. "You ready?"

"Yep!" Jess yells back, snatching her purse up off the dining table. "You are not coming in here and ruining all this," she whispers threateningly at Cece as she rifles through her purse.

Cece holds up her hands in mock innocence and Jess narrows her eyes at her.

* * *

Jess is a mess at the grocery store, overthinking everything Nick says or does, Cece's voice echoing in the back of her mind whenever Nick does as little as smile at her. She can't pry her eyes away from his feet, which _are_ pointing at her. And she knows that it's all nonsense, but now she's all turned around and Nick keeps saying her name all weird. He reaches out to grab her arm and Jess' breath catches in her throat because there's a tingle that radiates away from his strong grip and there's something in his eyes that Jess swears wasn't there before.

"We're friends, right, Nick?" She says when he tries to hold open the door for her as they leave the grocery store.

"Yeah, of course we are." He pops open the trunk and drops his bags into the back. "Why do you ask? Are you like, breaking up with me or something?" he teases as he slams the trunk door shut before walking around to the front of the car.

"No," Jess says quickly as she climbs into the passenger's seat. "I'm just glad we're friends. _Friends_."

Nick frowns at her and starts the car. "Did Cece say something to you?"

"What?" Jess squeaks out. "No. Nope."

He pulls out of the parking lot, and they end up stopped at a traffic light. Nick turns back to look at her, concern still tinting his features. "You've been acting weird ever since this morning. Is something wrong? Did I do something to offend you?"

"No. Just don't worry about it," she says as she racks her brain, trying to think of some kind of explanation that isn't the truth. _Maybe distraction will work_. "So, um, how's your dating life?"

"Eh." Nick stares out the front windshield and taps his thumbs on the steering wheel. "What about you? How's Sam?"

Jess bites down on her lip nervously. He's avoiding her. Is there something he's not telling her? Could Cece be right? No. _No._ Of course he isn't. This is all Cece's fault. She's gotten Jess all spun around and now she's overthinking something that isn't there, something that's _never_ going to happen. She curses her best friend in her head. Jess had just gotten over her weird, confusing feelings for Nick. And now Cece's dug it all up and left her to deal with it all over again.

A woman carrying a large bouquet of flowers leans down into their open window. "Rose for the lady?" she asks with a pleasant smile.

"No," Jess answers quickly, her eyes going wide.

"Okay, I'll buy you one," Nick counters, pulling a few dollars out of his wallet, and Jess shakes her head again. "Or two... they come as two?"

"No, no." Jess feels dizzy all of a sudden, like she can't get enough air. _Is the car suddenly shrinking?_

"I'll buy two," Nick says with a smile, passing the cash over to the woman. She nods and passes him the package with a wide smile before moving on to the next car. "Thank you." Nick turns back towards Jess with a grin. "Here, take some roses."

"You don't-"

"Jess, it's two dollars," he cuts her off. "It's not a big deal. Just take the damn flowers."

She stares down at the roses for the rest of the car ride, trying not to hyperventilate. This is crazy. Nick's not- He wouldn't- He isn't- _Ugh._ Why did Cece have to weasel her way into this? They were doing perfectly fine before she decided to get involved. Now she's freaking out for no reason and getting all worked up over nothing. Nick doesn't have feelings for her. He _doesn't_.

* * *

The second time it happens Jess is so exhausted and feverish that she's half convinced it was all a dream.

She gets sick, _really_ sick. Bad enough that her manager Tashina takes one look at Jess before pushing her out the door and insisting she stay home until she feels better. Jess drives home in a daze, and it's not until she's standing in the open doorway to the loft that she realizes that she actually drove home. She sways on her feet for a moment before dropping her purse down on the table by the entrance and stumbling off towards her bedroom.

Jess changes into her pajamas on autopilot, periodically pausing to just stare down at what's in her hands until she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Once she's dressed, she heads back out towards the living room, ready to curl up on the couch and watch her go-to sick day movie: _Ferris Bueller's Day Off._ She barely makes it to the part where they leave in Cameron's father's red Ferrari before passing out on the couch.

"Hey, Jess," a hushed voice says above her.

She blearily blinks open her eyes, the world swimming as her eyes refuse to focus. Her cheek is sorta stuck to the leather seat of the couch, a little smear of drool on the cushion where her open mouth was.

There's something pressed against her forehead, and it's not until after it's gone that her brain realizes that it was the back of Nick's hand testing her temperature. "You're burning up."

 _Is she? That kinda sounds right._ Jess blinks slowly at him and then swallows thickly.

Nick's face disappears from her view and Jess dozes back off to sleep. She's prodded awake a few moments later by a firm hand between her shoulder blades that lifts her up a few inches before propping her up with a pillow.

"Open up," Nick says, setting two pills into her palm. She swallows them down and drinks the remainder of a cool glass of water under his watchful eye.

Once she's done he helps her lie back down, pulling the blanket back over her shoulders and smoothing her messy hair out of her face. Jess lets out a soft, contented hum and she settles back into the couch. Nick crouches down beside her, his face level with hers. He smiles gently at her and Jess tries her best to return it.

"Well, you have a pretty high fever, so you need to get some rest." He runs his hand through her bangs again, brushing them out of her eyes. His fingers linger along her hairline, almost like he's reluctant to let go of her. Or maybe that's the fever talking.

He gently places a cool cloth on her forehead, and Jess' eyes flutter shut at the sensation. In no time at all she's drifting back to sleep, right on the fence between awake and asleep, ready to tip over at any moment.

She catches a sudden whiff of Nick's cologne as he leans in close to her, and then she can feel the soft touch of his thumb brushing over her cheek and the whisper of his voice. "Feel better, sweetheart." It's a good fever dream.

* * *

"Can I talk to you a minute?" Winston asks, his hands on the doorframe as he leans into her room.

Jess looks up from her knitting. "Yeah, of course!"

Winston walks in, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot. He spins her desk chair around and sits down backwards on it, like he's the cool teacher in an after school special.

"What's up?" she asks, counting over the rows she's just finished and trying to remember if she's supposed to knit or purl the next round of stitches.

"It's about Nick."

She glances up in concern, trying to read Winston's expression. "Is he okay? Did something happen?"

He frowns, staring down at the ground like he's trying to find the right words to say. "Well, it's about _you_ and Nick."

"Is he upset with me? Did I do something wrong?" Jess asks, racking her brain for what she might have done or said lately without fully thinking it through. It's been ages since she and Nick actually fought, outside of their normal good-natured bickering. She was under the impression that they've been on good terms lately.

"Look." Winston sighs and looks at her sympathetically. "There's no good way to put this, but a man can only sit back and observe for so long before he has to speak his mind."

Jess' brow furrows. "Then speak your mind."

Winston steeples his hands on the back of the chair. "A line has been crossed."

"What?"

"I think you need to stop leading Nick on."

" _What?_ " she repeats in shocked disbelief. "I'm not leading him on."

"I understand if you're not doing it on purpose," Winston says, holding him hands up in a placating gesture. "But you need to stop treating him like he's your boyfriend, but without the rewards."

"I'm not treating him like a boyfriend!" Jess protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Winston gives her a skeptical look and counts his points off on his fingers. "You guys go on these fake-dates-"

"What, a man and a woman can't hang out without it being a date?" she interrupts defensively.

"You went to a nice restaurant for dinner and he paid for both of you," Winston counters.

Jess scoffs. "Yeah, because I'm a part-time fast food employee and he's a senior partner at a corporate law firm."

They're not _dates_. It's two friends hanging out over coffee or lunch or dinner. It's like the furthest thing possible from a date. It works out great. She'll get something to eat with Nick when he gets home, and then Sam will pick her up whenever he gets off from work. Her friendship with Nick has been getting even stronger lately, mostly because they're spending so much time together. She loves getting to hear all about what Abbi is up to these days, and it's nice to have a listening ear to vent to about her insane morning shift manager or the finicky soccer mom she argued with over the phone for thirty minutes over whether the Diet Coke she ordered was in fact Diet Coke.

Winston ignores her explanation and moves on to his next point. "You're all touchy-feely with him."

"I'm touchy-feely with everybody. I give everyone hugs; Nick knows he has to put up with that." Jess frowns.

"He's there whenever you need a guy," Winston elaborates. "You want a cup of tea, he'll make it. You lose your phone, he'll call it."

"We're _friends._ Nick is my friend. That's what friends do."

Jess can't believe they're arguing about this. Winston's being crazy. Of course she isn't leading Nick on. He'd have to be interested in her for that to happen, which is obviously so far from plausible it's insane.

"Maybe that's how _you_ feel," Winston concedes. "But other people might see it differently."

Jess furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "I just think that there's a reason why Nick hasn't been dating anyone."

She rolls her eyes. "Because he's literally in the process of _getting divorced_. He just ended things with Caroline."

"That was months ago, Jess." He sighs. "Look, I'm not the only one who's noticed it."

"Oh did Schmidt put you up to this?" she asks with an angry glare. _That nosy, meddling son of a bitch_.

"No, he's not involved," Winston says quickly. "But haven't you noticed the way guys don't hit on you when Nick's around?"

"What, because they think we're a couple?" Jess asks with a sarcastic laugh. "That's absurd."

"Alright, fine, Jess. You win. I know you care about Nick, but if you care about him, you need to let him go." Winston holds his hands up in surrender and stands up out of the chair. "I just wanted to bring it to your attention."

"I think you're being ridiculous," she says with a huff as Winston slowly backs out of the room. "But thanks anyways."

* * *

A few days go by and now that Jess is hyper aware of every thing she does, and _maybe_ Winston has a point. She and Nick are just friends, but it's tricky. She's always had relationships in different boxes. _Friends in one box, boyfriends in another._ But with Nick everything is messy. The lines aren't quite as clear as she's used to. She doesn't want to screw up what they have with each other. He's too important to her, and the last thing she wants is a bunch of people telling her what they can and can't do together.

They go out to the bar that weekend. It's just her and Nick hanging out as friends as Jess tries to keep Cece's and Winston's meddling out of her head. They laugh and chat and get tipsy and it's fun the way it always is when it's just the two of them. Nick heads off to get them another round, and Jess stays at their booth to wait for him.

She ends up talking to this really sweet guy named Paul, who also happens to be a middle school teacher. She tells him about the position she's starting in a few weeks and they start comparing notes on lesson plans while doing some casual flirting. It's going super well and Jess is just about to ask for his number when Nick comes back from the bar and sits down next to Jess in the empty seat of the booth.

"Here's your wine, Jess," he says and passes the glass over to her.

She smiles at him. "Thanks, Nick."

"Oh." Paul looks between the two of them, his gaze flicking to where Nick's arm is resting on the back of the booth behind Jess' shoulders. A moment ago Jess hadn't even thought about it, but now everything clicks into place. Winston's words from earlier echo in the back of her head.

Paul awkwardly excuses himself, and Nick watches him go with a confused expression.

"Huh." Nick turns back to face her. He takes a sip of his own cocktail. "Weird."

Jess stares back at him, the realization slowly sinking in. "Yeah."

* * *

The third time it happens it stops her dead in her tracks.

Nick's been preparing for this crazy important deposition for the past three months, and the testimony is in two days. Needless to say, he's been running off of minimal sleep and straight caffeine in the final push to the finish line, working around the clock at the office or hunched over their kitchen table, stacks of documents piled up around him with his scratchy handwriting filling up the margins and a plethora of legal pads with his own notes written and rewritten, bits and pieces highlighted or scratched out at random.

Jess stumbles out of bed at 3am, just waking up from a horribly-timed impromptu nap after a shift at the Shanty. Nick is still up, mumbling to himself and scribbling something on a scrap of paper. She starts up the tea kettle and is rummaging through the cabinets for a tea bag when she feels a slight weight press against her lower back. She glances to the side to see Nick reaching up into the upper cabinets, his warm hand resting lightly on her to keep his balance.

"Here you go, darling," he says as he hands over the box of tea Jess was looking for. His voice is rough and tired, and the bags under his eyes are deeper than they've ever been. But he looks at Jess out of the corner of his eye with a soft smile on his face. Then he presses a kiss to her temple and walks back over to where his work is spread all over the table.

Jess stands there in shock, still reeling from his accidental misstep. Nick's been a walking zombie these days, coasting through on autopilot since he's been buried up to his neck in work. All of his thought processes are focused on legal prep instead of focusing on what he's doing in the moment.

He's so sleep deprived that he got mixed up. His exhausted brain must have thought she was Caroline and acted on instinct. That's the only explanation.

* * *

But she can't help but notice how much Nick seems to hover around her, the way he's always so nice to her. At first she had thought it was him pitying her after she lost her job, but now she has her teaching job at The Willow School. And yet he's still coddling her, always eager to find ways to do things for her.

 _God, she's so selfish_. Winston is right and she just lets Nick do all these things for her because it feels good to her just to be around him. But she's bad for him. He just got divorced and they've been hanging out and he's developed all these false, residual feelings for her because he's lonely and scared of finding who he's really supposed to end up with. What are they even doing together? She lives with this guilty feeling for weeks. She finally snaps one day, when he steps in to unlock the front door of the loft for her even as she's reaching in her purse for her keys.

Jess whirls around and places her hands on her hips. "Will you cut that out?" she yells. _She wants to make him hate her._

Nick looks at her, startled. "What do you mean, Jess?"

"That! Why do you have to say my name like that? _Jess,_ " she says with her best impression of his dumb accent, and Nick frowns even deeper.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" He runs a hand through his hair, looking lost.

"Everything!" She shakes her fists up at the ceiling in frustration. "The fancy dinner dates and the pet names and doing things for me all the time."

Nick doesn't look any less confused after her explanation. He opens his mouth to say something but then falters.

Jess huffs and crosses her arms back over her chest. "Do you think I can't take care of myself on my own or something?"

"No-"

"That I'm not capable of handling myself?"

"No!"

"I'm a grown woman, Nick!" she yells, and it echoes down the empty hallway. "I can make decisions for myself!"

"I know you can!" he yells back.

"Then stop-"

"Stop what?" Nick interrupts, setting his hands on his hips and looking at her expectantly.

Jess groans. _Why is this so hard to explain?_ "Doing all of _that_."

"All _that_?" He huffs in a mix of annoyance and frustration. "I'm just trying to be nice, Jess."

"You don't have to be nice to me!"

"You want me to be rude to you all the time?" Nick asks in disbelief. "Is that what you want?"

"If it means then you won't be all-" She waves her hands vaguely in the air. "You know."

Nick rolls his eyes. "No, Jess. I don't know."

"Acting like you care."

"You don't want me to care about you?" Nick almost sounds hurt, like the wind's been punched out of him.

She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns. "Yeah."

"Jess..." he says softly, reaching out towards her.

She knows that she should pull away, that they need distance before this spirals out of control. Nick is her _friend_. He's still raw from the failure of his last relationship. And Jess is, well, a mess. They'd never work out, and then she would lose one of her closest friends. That's the sick joke the universe wants to play on her: She can't have him and she can't be without him.

Nick's hand lands on her upper arm, but she doesn't jerk away.

"I didn't realize what I was doing," he says soberly. "I'm sorry it upset you."

Jess bites down on her lower lip. "It's fine."

"You don't want me to do those things for you, Jess. I'll stop. I'll back off," he promises, and lets go of her arm.

She nods in agreement as she dies a little more inside. Nick finishes unlocking the door to the loft, and they both retreat to their respective rooms. Jess leaves her door ever so slightly ajar, a betrayal of her heart, some stupidly hopeful ache in her chest that hopes Nick will read through her transparent attempt to push him away and chase after her anyway.

But it doesn't work. She falls asleep in her empty bed, staring out the window and fighting off the feelings she's worked so hard to ignore.


	26. Fish Plants

Nick stares his reflection down in the bathroom mirror, frowning at the exhausted look in his eyes and the deep bags beneath them. It's wearing him down, to constantly hold himself back from what he wants so desperately. He knows it's probably something he made up in his head. He's not special; it's probably something he only feels because Jess is _nice_ and she's nice to everybody. But it feels so good in the moment, the spark of joy when Jess smiles his direction or the way she looks at him so intensely that he _swears_ there's more there. Even though he knew that he needed to pull away, he couldn't help drifting back to her, stupidly clinging to the slightest hope that she might feel the same way about him. Tonight he finally got his answer, and he can still feel the pain of rejection that hit him like a suckerpunch to the gut.

 _See, you idiot? She doesn't want you. She's never going to want you._ He leans over the sink and splashes water on his face. _It doesn't matter if you love her if she doesn't love you back._

Even just saying the words inside his head makes his chest ache. But it's true. This is never going to happen and to even imagine that it might is just him deluding himself. _He's such a fucking idiot._ He fell for Jess so hard and so fast, tumbled head over heels for a girl that he's known for less than a year. Hell, they haven't even kissed. It's insane. He doesn't do that. He's careful. He's always been careful. He doesn't just go around getting infatuated and falling in love with people. But he cares for her _so much_. So much that it genuinely terrifies him.

Nick scrubs his hands over his face and heads back towards his room. He lingers in the hallway a moment too long, staring at Jess' door. It's not closed all the way; it's still slightly ajar, mocking him. If he were brave enough he would open it up and sweep Jess off her feet. He would tell her how he feels, kiss those bright red lips the way he's wanted to for months. He'd take her to bed to make his wildest dreams of her a reality. Better yet, if he were smart enough he would grab the handle and shut it, sealing himself off from temptation and giving her the space she wants.

But he's never been either of those things, so he stares at the handle for a long minute before slinking back to his own room, not bothering to kick the door all the way shut behind him. He falls onto the mattress, spread eagled on top of his comforter. He stares up at the off-white ceiling, their fight from earlier still echoing in his head.

 _You don't want me to care about you?_

Fuck. He really fucked it up this time, didn't he? If there were ever any consideration that he might have the slightest clue what he was doing, this sure as hell proves it wrong. This isn't what he wants. He wants her, as unrealistic as it is. He curses his heart for being stupid enough to fall for her. Nick pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long exhale. Once all his breath is gone, he takes in a sharp inhale as he gives himself a slap on each cheek. _Pull yourself together, Miller._

He glances at his watch and then digs his phone out of his pocket, dialing the number he knows like the back of his hand. It rings through a few times, which is odd. Usually Caroline picks right up around this time since this is when Abbi is usually getting ready for bed.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar woman's voice says on the other end. _Could he have dialed the wrong number?_

Nick frowns. "Uh, I'm calling for Caroline?"

"Oh, sure! I'll put you right on."

There's a muffled sound of the woman lowering the phone. He can hear her distantly whispering _It's Nick_ before passing it over.

"Hey, Nick," Caroline says, the sound of the running sink coming to a stop as she presumably shuts off the faucet. "Abbi just ran up to her room; let me call her down." She turns away from the receiver and yells, " _Abbi! Your dad's on the phone!"_

There's the distinct sound of Abbi thundering down the stairs. " _Thanks, Mom_ ," she says quickly before taking the phone. "Hi, Dad!"

"Hey, Little A," Nick says with a grin. Even just hearing his daughter's voice is enough to make him feel a hundred times lighter. "What's up?"

"Not much."

He smiles and sits up to lean back against the wall. "What were you up to today?"

"Working on my project," she says excitedly.

"Right." He'd gone off to get her supplies just the other day. "What was it on, again? Water aerobics?"

Abbi giggles on the other end. "No."

"Aquafresh?"

"No!" She laughs. "That's a toothpaste."

"Hmm," Nick hums in thought. "I know it had something to do with water..."

"It's aquaponics."

"Aquabotics?" he asks teasingly.

"Aqua _-ponics_ ," she repeats, and Nick can practically hear her rolling her eyes over the phone. "Gosh, Dad."

Nick chuckles. "Hey, I'm an old man. I forget things."

" _So_ old," Abbi agrees with another high-pitched giggle. "It's water and fish. They grow each other."

"What?" he says with feigned disbelief, trying to goad her on. "No way. Not possible."

"Yes way!" Abbi insists excitedly. He can practically hear her gap-toothed grin over the phone. "The fish eat food and make nutrients for the plants, and the plants clean the water and make nutrients for the fish. It's _symbiotic_."

Listening to Abbi talk always blows him away. She's so incredibly bright, so genuinely excited about what she's doing. Nick remembers being her age and spending the summers messing around with Winston in his background, playing one-on-one baseball in their bare feet until one of them accidentally stepped on a rusty nail. And then here's his incredible daughter, using four syllable words she read about in a science book for fun.

"That sounds awesome, Abbi," he says, his chest swelling with pride.

"Thanks, Dad."

He grins. "Of course, sweetheart. You'll have to keep me updated."

"Uh huh," she agrees.

They talk for a while longer, and Abbi tells him about the playdate she had with her friend Becca, who's staying over tonight for a real sleepover. Her _first_ sleepover. Nick listens along to Abbi's rambling, always glad to be a part of his daughter's life. He might not always be there in person, but he can come pretty damn close, and that's all he can really ask for.

"Okay, I'll let you go hang out with Becca," Nick says reluctantly. "Have fun."

"I love you, Dad."

Nick smiles. "I love you, too."

Abbi makes a kissing noise towards the receiver and then runs back to hand the phone back to Caroline. "Here's Mom. Bye, Dad!"

"Bye, sweetie."

"Hey," Caroline answers. Nick can vaguely hear the sound of Abbi running back up the stairs. "Sorry if she was a little hyper. She managed to convince me to have dessert after dinner since her friend was over."

Nick chuckles. "No problem."

A few awkward seconds of silence pass. They're still trying to figure out this weird balance, trying to be friendly towards each other in the midst of everything else going on. It's a headache to navigate the minefield sometimes, but Nick would jump through a hundred hoops if it meant he could still have Abbi in his life.

He clears his throat. "So, uh. Who was that on the phone earlier?"

"Oh, um," Caroline hesitates. "Susan, the mom of Abbi's friend. She came over to drop Becca off and then stayed around for dinner."

"That's nice," he says around the lump in his throat.

It's totally hypocritical, but he's still surprised to hear about Caroline moving on from him. The first thing he did after shit hit the fan was to reconnect with old friends. So it shouldn't shock him to hear that his ex-wife is building relationships outside of him. But somehow it still manages to catch him off-guard.

Another too-long silence passes before Caroline says, "Well, I should let you go. I'm sure you've got plenty of work to do."

"Yeah," Nick agrees. "I'll talk to you later."

"Sure," she says quickly. "Bye, Nick."

"Bye, Caroline." He has to fight off the reflex to tack on an _I love you_ to the end of the sentence. Old habits die hard.

He hits the _End Call_ button and sighs. That hollow feeling resettles into his chest, a painful ache that he can't seem to ever truly escape.

* * *

The next week at work is utter hell. He's picking up more and more slack to keep up with the insane pace that Meriwether is driving for the Deschanel case. By the time Friday night rolls around there's nothing Nick wants more than to crash on the couch with a few beers and the three Cubs games on the DVR he's been meaning to get around to for months. But apparently the guys have other plans.

"C'mon, man," Winston says as he tries to convince Nick to get off the couch and join them. "You can be boring next weekend."

"Yeah, Nicholas," Schmidt agrees as he fusses with his hair for the hundredth time. "It's going to be off the charts. A throwback Schmick bar crawl. Relive the good ol' days."

Nick looks at him skeptically. "The good days? I think you're forgetting the morning after the bar crawl."

Schmidt looks up at the ceiling with a fond look in his eyes. "All part of the journey, my man."

"You should totally come along." Jess rounds the corner of the hallway, still putting on her hoop earrings. "It's gonna be so fun."

She's wearing this tiny little dress, a figure-hugging top with alternating stripes of black and cream fabric with a dark lace pattern and a stretchy black skirt that barely reaches her thighs. Combined with her bright blue heels she looks absolutely delectable, and Nick would give up his left arm for just twenty minutes between those long, glossy legs.

Which is exactly why he needs to stay here on the couch, with Jess safely out of reach. There's no way Drunk Nick would be able to keep away from her. He'd end up doing something completely stupid like kiss her or tell her what he really thinks about all these weeks of 'space' from her.

"I don't think so, Jess," he says guardedly.

"Please, Nick?" she says with a slight pout, batting her eyelashes. "For me?"

 _Fuck_. Like he could ever say no to her. She must know what she's doing to him. "Alright. Yeah, I'll do it for you, Jess."

Jess beams at him and Nick's heart swells, despite the dirty look that Schmidt gives him.

* * *

Two bars in and Nick's already more than a little overwhelmed, so he nurses his beer while everyone else in their little party gets trashed. Jess giggles and uses his arm for balance as they walk to their next location, her last margarita kicking in and making her unsteady on those mile-high heels.

"She's leading you on, bro," Winston whispers to him in the bathroom of their third bar, an 80s-themed, neon-covered joint that makes Nick wish he had brought a pair of sunglasses.

"Maybe." Nick stares down at where he's washing his hands in the sink. "But maybe I like being led."

"I just don't want you getting hurt," he says seriously. "We should've just made this a guys' night."

"It's fine," Nick insists, shaking the excess water off his hands. He hates to admit it, but Winston's right. He's supposed to be getting some distance from her. "But maybe you could get in between us? Run interference?"

Winston nods his head as he dries his hands and then gives him a sympathetic clap on the shoulder. They head back out to rejoin Schmidt and Jess in the corner booth, with Nick crowded into the corner seat across from Jess.

She's in the middle of some story about asshole Sam, so Nick lets his attention wander around the bar, trying to tune out whatever sexcapade that stupid, hot Sam did to break Jess' perfectly nice dresser. To his surprise he spots Julia Cleary across the room, looking a little out of place in her blazer as she leans on the bar and waits for the bartender to get her drink. She glances in his direction and he gives her a nod that she returns with a slight wave.

"Who's that?" Schmidt asks.

Nick turns his attention back to the table. "Oh, no one, really. A woman I work with."

"You should go say hi," Jess says, her cheeks flushed as she digs her straw through the remaining ice chips in her glass.

"I just did," he shrugs.

"No. Go talk to her." Jess leans in conspiratorially. "She's super hot."

"What? No." He clears his throat nervously. "She's my _coworker_. I'm not interested."

"Are you kidding me?" Schmidt cuts in, his words slightly slurred. "You used to go for that kind of girl all the time in college."

"Dude had mad game," Winston agrees with drunken seriousness. " _Mad_ game."

"Yeah, and Young Me left that game back in the Stone Age one ex-wife and a kid ago," Nick says and smacks Winston's shoulder.

"You should go for it," Jess encourages him, teeth nibbling on her lower lip.

Nick glances back over his shoulder at Julia. Winston and Schmidt have a point. She's exactly the type of girl he used to go for back before he dated Caroline. Tall, leggy, kinda mean, but in a hot way. But she's not Jess.

Maybe that's a good thing.

He sighs and finishes off the rest of his beer. "Alright, shove over," he mutters to Winston.

Nick slides out of the booth and takes a few steps towards the bar. He turns to look back at the gang, who are excitedly shooing him away. Jess has this complicated look on her face, something else lurking behind the smile she's wearing. Nick hesitates, waiting for her to call him back to the table. But the words never come, and he curses his imagination for projecting his own feelings on to her without reason.

He walks up beside where Julie's sitting and leans his elbow on the bar. "Cleary."

"Miller." A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure."

Nick sits down on the stool beside her and flags down the bartender. "So what brings you here?" he asks, trying to remember how he used to do this kind of thing.

"If I had to read one more deposition I was going to blow my brains out," she explains with a slight eye roll. Nick chuckles and nods in understanding.

The bartender comes around and Nick orders a Rum and Coke for himself before insisting Julia get whatever she'd like. She orders a Martini, which is classy and serious in a sophisticated way that he would expect from someone like her. His mind drifts across the room to Jess with her girly cocktail that's so sweet you can barely taste the alcohol. He pushes the thought away and scolds himself from trying to compare the two of them.

Julia takes a sip of her drink. "What about you? Trying to escape the wife and kid?"

Nick clears his throat nervously. "Ex-wife, actually."

She raises an eyebrow and her gaze briefly drops down to his left hand before flicking back up to his face. "How's that going for you?"

"Fine." He takes a long drink. This is more personal information than he's ever told a coworker. It's incredibly disorienting, to say the least. His every instinct is telling him to sulk back to his friends, to give up the far-fetched idea that he could ever get over someone as incredible as Jess.

Speaking of Jess, she appears by his side not even five seconds later. "Hey, we're going to get going soon." She turns to look over at Julia with a look of surprise. "Nick! You have to introduce me."

"Right, um. Jess, this is Julia, one of my coworkers. Julia, this is Jess, my roommate."

"So nice to meet you!" she says cheerily. Jess holds out her hand to Julia, who takes it with her signature iron-tight grip.

"A pleasure," she says, cold and clipped.

"Well I just came to tell Nick that we're moving on to our next bar in a few minutes." She smiles brightly. "Oh! You should come with us!"

"Jess," Nick cuts in warily. "Let's not-"

"Sure." Julia looks over at Nick, and there's clear interest in her eyes. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Yay!" Jess cheers. "I'll go tell the guys." She gives Nick a quick wink before disappearing back towards their table.

Nick sighs. "Julia, you don't have to come along. I-"

"Relax, Miller." She knocks back half of her drink and picks her purse up off the bartop. "It's been ages since I did a bar crawl. This will be interesting."

"You sure?" He takes a long drink and pulls some cash out of his wallet to pay for their drinks. "Because if you don't want to-"

"I want to."

"Nick!" Schmidt yells across the room from the entrance. "Let's go!"

* * *

They end up at the Griffin, because they always end up at the Griffin. A few more stragglers join their sloppy little party by the end, with everyone at various levels of drunkenness as they stumble into their last bar of the evening. Schmidt leans heavily against the bar and flirts with an amused Cece, who's finishing up the tail end of her shift. Winston chats up some nice petite woman who keeps rolling her eyes or punching him in the arm whenever he says something particularly weird. Nick's not quite sure where Jess went, but he's sure she's off somewhere texting or flirting over drinks or hooking up in the bathroom with Sam. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth and he washes it down with a slug of beer.

He and Julia are sitting together in one of the booths, his arm on the back of the seat while she leans in a little too close to be just friendly.

"This is, like, your world, huh?" she comments, looking around the room with a critical eye.

Nick follows her gaze and cringes. "No."

"It is," Julia insists with her half-laugh. "It's you in your natural habitat. It's fascinating."

"I'm not like _this_ , though." He frowns. "I'm an adult. I have a 401k and bad knees-"

"Calm down, Miller. I'm just messing with you," she says and he gives her a skeptical look. "Seriously, I think all of your friends seem completely awesome and nice and fun, so relax."

"You don't have to say that," he insists. It feels like she's making fun of him. Or worse, pitying him.

"I'm not." She sets her drink down on the table, her dark red fingernails toying with the stem of her glass. "I mean, I did all this when I got divorced."

Nick looks at her in surprise. "You did?"

"Yeah." Julia glances out around the room. "Got married real young. He was in patent law, worked at the firm across the street. Couldn't stand each other after five years, so we called it quits." She lifts her glass up to her lips with a sardonic smile. "How most marriages go, I guess."

He doesn't quite know what to say to that, so he just nods and sips at his beer.

"Anyways. Did the whole party girl thing for a while. Got sick of it." Julia leans backs against the seat, her legs crossed and body leaning in towards him. "And now I'm here. With you."

Nick swallows nervously. He doesn't know what he's doing. He's got this incredibly hot, attractive woman all pressed up against him and he hasn't the slightest clue what his next move is. He looks around in a slight panic before spotting Jess up at the bar chatting with Cece.

"Here, lemme get you another drink," he says quickly and grabs Julia's empty glass before dashing off, ignoring the annoyed look on her face.

"Hey, you," Jess says, teasingly punching him in the shoulder. "Mister Charming over there. Mama Mia. Someone's getting laid tonight."

"Jess," he groans in embarrassment. "Cut it out."

"Yeah, Jess," Cece says, looking between the two of them with a knowing smirk. Nick holds back another groan. _Cece knows, too? How is he this obvious?_

"Well what are you doing here for?" Jess asks him, ignoring the implications of whatever her best friend is trying to say. "Go ask her to come home with you."

"It's not that easy," he grumbles.

"Miller?" Julia says, coming up to join their little group. She holds her hand out to him and Nick takes it reflexively for a firm handshake. "I'm going to head out. Get some work done."

"You're leaving already?" Jess says in disbelief. "This night's just getting started!"

"It is?" Nick asks in confusion.

Jess turns to look at him in mock astonishment. "We were going to play True American. Don't you remember?"

Julia seems intrigued. "True American?"

"Oh my god, you're going to love it," Jess insists. "Cece your shift is almost up, right?"

Cece looks skeptically at Jess. "Yeah, just a few minutes."

Julia gives her a wary look and shifts her grip on her purse. "Okay, sure. Just let me run to the bathroom first."

"See," Jess hisses once Julia's out of earshot. "Easy peasy. Son, I'm gonna get you laid."

"Okay," Nick groans. He can already feel this situation beginning to spiral out of control. "That's not how it is and never call me _son_ and don't talk like that."

Jess just giggles and gives him a wink before finishing off her glass of pink wine.

* * *

They get back to the loft and start setting up, and it's probably good that there's so many people playing because they've already had _a lot_ to drink tonight. Playing with Clinton Rules adds a whole new element of confusion to the whole situation, and poor Julia seems way over her head from the sudden onslaught of rules. But she's tough and brilliant, and it's not long before she's taking the lead.

The whole stripping thing is horribly awkward, but the drunker he gets the less he worries about it. Schmidt is the first to ditch his shirt and pants and takes the opportunity to flex in front of Cece as much as possible while she rolls her eyes in annoyance. Winston and the petite girl, Aly, manage to make it out relatively unscathed, ditching shoes and socks and coats, unabashedly violating the rules on partial nudity. Nick tries to use the same loophole, but he eventually gets coaxed out of his belt, followed by his white button down. He's pretty drunk but he's definitely not imagining the way that Julia keeps glancing over at him, almost like she's checking him out. It's weird, because here's this crazy hot woman that he sees every week in the conference room, but now she's not wearing her clean cut blazer or the black lace bra she'd ditched on her last turn to strip. He can almost see clear through the gauzy material of her sleeveless blouse, and the fact that someone like _her_ might actually want _him_ is mind boggling.

And then there's Jess, who's bouncing up and down on the couch all the way across the room, the material of the red tutu she'd inexplicably had on when she returned from her trip to the bathroom fluttering up around her hips as she yells out American History themed innuendos that she turns into a whole new set of rules. Jess, who he is still stupidly in love with, looking absolutely captivating in that white bra with purple flowers and her dark curls spilling over her shoulders. Jess, who's been pushing him to hook up with someone else all night. Jess, who doesn't want him to care about her anymore.

The game starts to wind down, and suddenly everyone's itching to call it quits and find some privacy with their respective partner.

"There's only one way to solve this!" Jess shouts over the cacophony. "Two of us have to go behind the Iron Curtain, which is that door there, and kiss. And there has to be a clear and present threat of tongue."

"This is why I voted for you," Schmidt slurs, toasting what's left of his beer to Jess.

"Julia, you ready for this?" Nick yells across the room, trying to make sure she can hear him over everyone else coordinating their number picking. She nods, but there's a glint of confusion and unease in her eyes that makes Nick nervous.

"One! Two! Three!" They yell out and then-

 _Oh no. No. No no no._

Jess meets his eyes from across the room, and her eyes go wide when she realizes that they're the only pair with matching numbers. Nick's throat goes dry because _no. This can't be happening. No no no._

* * *

They get shoved behind the Iron Curtain and Nick can barely concentrate over the high-pitched screaming that's echoing in the back of his head. Jess is half-naked in front of him and telling him to kiss her, as if it's no big deal instead of something that's he's spent months daydreaming about. Except in all of his dreams, he never imagined his friends would be on the other side of the door, yelling at them to kiss each other.

"Ugh," Jess groans, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's the big deal? Let's just suck it up and French a little."

Nick's heart plummets straight into his stomach, and he's still not 100% convinced this isn't just some horrible fever dream. "Okay, fine, but don't say 'Let's suck it up and French a little.'"

"Okay, fine," she scoffs and takes a step towards him. "Let's do this."

He tentatively reaches out and grabs the sides of her arms, because that seems to be the most neutral place to hold on to her mostly-naked torso. _C'mon you clown._ _This is no big deal. Just one kiss. You'll get it out of your system, and then you can move on._ Nick lets out a shaky exhale. _This is fine. You got this. No big thing._

"Let's just do it," Jess insists, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. Her brow furrows. "Why are you licking your lips?"

"Should I not?" he asks in confusion. "Do you want dry lips?"

"No."

"Then I'm just licking 'em to make 'em better," he insists, a nervous edge to his voice. This isn't how this was supposed to go. Now he's overthinking and trapped up in his own head when he should be taking advantage of this one opportunity to kiss the girl of his dreams.

"Okay. Fine," Jess huffs in annoyance. "Do it."

Her eyes drift closed and she tilts her head back just the tiniest bit. Nick stares down at her lips, ever so slightly parted and painfully kissable. He can feel the small of his back starting to accumulate sweat, and he leans in towards her only to second guess himself a moment later.

"Are you a tongue-er?" he blurts out, jerking away from her.

Jess frowns at him. "Am I a _tongue-er_?"

"I don't want to put my tongue in your mouth if you don't like it," he explains with a frown.

"Just kiss me!" she yells.

Nick's sure that his brain melts right then and there. "I-"

She rolls her eyes and leans in another inch towards him. "Just kiss me," she practically begs.

He can't. He's spent ages imagining the perfect moment for this, dreaming and hoping for the slightest possibility that it might actually happen. But like this, it's just a joke. It's never going to mean anything to her, and she'll just brush it off as if it's nothing. He can't handle that. He's already had his heart broken by not having her. This will only make things worse.

Nick drops his hands back down to his sides, clenching them up into fists to keep from reaching out for her again. "No, I'm not gonna kiss you."

"Kiss me!" she yells. _Of course she isn't going to make this easy for him_.

"Jess, stop!"

"God!" Jess tips her head back with a groan. "Miller, just kiss me already!"

"No, not like this!"

He regrets the words the minute they leave his mouth. _Oh, you idiot. You goddamn idiot. Because this situation wasn't bad enough already? No, you had to go ahead and make it even worse._

Jess looks at him, equal parts amused and surprised. "Not like-"

"No," he cuts her off quickly. "I didn't mean-"

"What did you mean?"

"That was- I didn't-" Nick stammers. "It was out of-"

He's saved by a loud knocking on the Iron Curtain. "Jess, are you in there?" Sam yells.

Nick never thought he'd ever say it, but for once he's glad that Sam showed up.

"Yeah, I'll be right out!" Jess calls back. She glances over at Nick one last time before sneaking out of the hallway.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long exhale. _Fuck_.

* * *

Jess disappears into her room with Sam, leaving just Nick and Julia awkwardly standing around in the entryway.

"Look, Nick. I get it," Julia says. She lets out her sarcastic huff of a laugh and runs a hand through her hair. "I was in your shoes once. I wanted this cute, dumb little guy who was the complete opposite of the man I had married. So have your fun with Bugeyes Rainbow McSmiley or whatever." She shakes her head and riffles through her purse. "And when you're ready to grow up and move on, well my office is down the hall from yours." Julia looks back up at him and points a finger towards his chest, her tone suddenly serious. "But don't call me until you've figured out whatever you've got going on here."

Julia slams the front door shut as she leaves, and Nick cringes at the loud sound that echoes through the rest of the loft. He sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. _Great_. Nick goes back towards the kitchen, too riled up to fall asleep quite yet. He kicks aside the discarded beer cans and sits down at the kitchen island, resting his face in his hands and cursing God or fate or whatever greater force decided to turn against him tonight.

The floorboards creak, and Nick looks up to see Jess quietly sneaking into the kitchen, all wrapped up in that tiny pink robe. She smiles in his direction as she pours herself a glass of water and takes a long drink. "Hey, Nick."

He smiles back, fighting back his exhaustion to return the expression. "Hey, Jess."

"Sorry about what happened with Julia."

"Eh. It happens." Nick shrugs. "And- maybe I'm not that kind of guy anymore. Guess I'm not really looking for a hookup."

Jess smiles at him again before setting her now-empty glass down on the counter. "Well, I gotta hit the hay."

He stands up from his stool. "I'll walk with you."

They slowly walk down the hall before stopping just outside her door. The tension from earlier comes back in full force, the weight of his confession hanging over their heads.

 _Not like this._

Nick stares at her, his eyes glossing over the lines of her face. Her blue eyes, dark in the dim light of the hallway. Those bright pink lips that had literally begged him to kiss her earlier.

 _Just kiss me!_

"Hey," she whispers. "What _are_ you looking for?"

His heart stops, and for a moment there's absolutely nothing in the world except for the two of them. No messy histories, no expectations, no meddling roommates. Just him and her, all alone in the loft, the place where he fell in love with her.

Jess seems to take his silence for an answer, and turns away to go back to bed with a quiet, "Goodnight, Nick."

 _You idiot_ , his brain yells. _Kiss her._

He does.

Nick grabs her by the crook of her elbow and captures her lips with his. Jess lets out this soft little gasp and throws her arms around his neck before kissing him back frantically. He wraps his arms around back and pulls her in close to him the way he's wanted so desperately, feeling out the curve of her back and waist, tangling a hand up in her hair.

When he kisses her it feels like going home. It's the same feeling he gets when he holds her hand or she smiles at him from across the room, just multiplied. And he gets to see the world from her eyes when he's with her. She tastes sweet and makes these quiet little noises of pleasure that make him want to kiss her deeper, to peel off that soft robe and coax out every moan and gasp and sigh she could ever possibly make.

He kisses her deep and slow, chasing after the shape of her lips and memorizing the feel of her against him. He kisses her until she clouds all of his senses, until all he can breathe and smell and taste is her, until everything else fades into background noise as he focuses on the magnificence of kissing Jess.

After what feels like ages he reluctantly pulls back, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing is rough and ragged, the sound loud in the silence. Then, because he just can't help himself, he leans in to press his lips to hers again, a second and then third kiss that send a current running through him, just like the first.

Finally he leans back and looks at her, the dazed look in her eyes and her kiss-swollen lips.

"You. I want you." His voice is barely about a whisper but it's clear in his conviction.

Then he lets go of her and storms back to his own room, kicking the door shut behind him.


	27. Secrets

"What are you looking for?" Jess asks, mostly because she's curious and a little because of the way Nick had watched her all night, his eyes sad and a little distant. It's the way he's looked at her since their last fight, and she can't help but feel a twinge of guilt when she thinks back to it.

A silence settles over the loft. Jess is usually good at reading people. She's always been able to guess people's emotions, sometimes even before they themselves realize what they're feeling. But with Nick she's never really sure. There's something different about the way he acts around her, guarded and a little uneasy. Something complicated brewing under the surface that she can't quite seem to puzzle out.

Nick stares at her for a long, drawn-out minute, his eyes serious and a slight frown on his lips. It's almost like he's trying to decide something. For a moment she swears he's finally going to make his move, to unlock that Pandora's Box he keeps trapped in his chest and let all his feelings pour out onto the floor. But then the moment passes, and it's just the two of them standing in the hallway like any other night.

Jess lets out the breath she can't remember holding. "Goodnight, Nick," she whispers and turns away from him.

She makes it half a step towards her room before he yanks on her arm, and she stumbles back into his arms. There's barely a moment for her to register what's happened before his lips are on hers, and she lets out an involuntary gasp when she realizes that _he's kissing her._

He's kissing her and it's _incredible_ , just like that first time. Her eyes flutter closed and she throws her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he steals her breath away. She chases after his lips and does her best to keep up with the almost-frantic pace of his mouth, all the while distracted by his hands roaming over her back and up in her hair and _oh-_

Nick pulls her up flush against his chest, and she lifts up onto her tiptoes as his open mouth glides against hers. He nudges her head to get the angle just right and she swears she can see fireworks exploding underneath her eyelids. There's white-hot fire coursing through her veins and her brain is still trying to process the fact that this is Nick kissing her, _Nick Miller_ , and God she didn't realize just how much she wanted this until just now.

The intensity of the first kiss is followed by two soft ones, the barest brush of his lips against hers before he pulls away. The world is spinning and she still can't quite catch her breath. Jess looks up at him, feeling like she's in a dream. Some wild, twirly dream where her roommate kisses her until she's weak in the knees.

His voice is rough as he whispers, "You. I want you."

And then he runs away. Frustrating, infuriating Nick Miller runs away and leaves her disheveled and burning in the hallway. Jess watches him go, her fingers coming up to brush over her lips. There's no way that actually happened. But her lips are still on fire, the taste of the whiskey he had tonight lingering in her mouth, her blood boiling beneath her skin.

 _Nick Miller._ Who does he think he is? Running around and kissing her _good_ and hard and _strong_ until she can't even think straight. With those big, broad hands that could span the entire width of her waist, one of them threading through the hair at the nape of her neck while the other teased the underside of her breast.

 _Ugh._ It hasn't even been five minutes and she's already getting pulled back into the fantasy, still standing shell-shocked in the middle of the hallway. Jess blinks and gives her head a little shake before turning back towards her own door. She spares one last glance over her shoulder towards his room before sighing and escaping to her own.

* * *

The sun finally rises, putting an end to the longest night of her life. Jess is exhausted. She managed to get maybe one or two hours of rest and spent the rest of the time tossing and turning, willing sleep to take over and clear her head of the messy, complicated feelings that are churning in the pit of her stomach.

She turns her head to the side, where Sam is still fast asleep. Hot, single, non-divorced Sam who wants a cool, casual relationship and makes her feel like she's some kind of ambassador, or spy, or a really high-class prostitute. Simple, easy Sam who doesn't do dates or relationships, who doesn't know her last name and sometimes calls her Katie when he's super drunk. This is what she wants. No strings attached, easy-breezy, no expectations. You can't have your heart broken if you never gave it away in the first place.

Across the hall she can hear the faint sound of Nick's bedroom door opening, and Jess silently sneaks out of bed. She catches him in the kitchen, already dressed in one of his crisp suits and midway into a bite of one of her blueberry muffins. He freezes when he spots her, his eyes going comically wide.

"Nick!" she hisses.

He drops the half-eaten muffin down on the counter. "I wasn't doing anything," he mutters as he frantically shoves a bundle of papers into his briefcase before hastily clicking it shut. "I wasn't doing _anything_ ," he insists again.

"Do not walk away from me," she threatens, hands on her hips and using her best Teacher Voice.

But she must be out of practice, because Nick seems totally unfazed. He picks up his briefcase and backs away from her with a pained grimace.

"Do not," she whisper-yells, following him as he panic moonwalks towards the front door. "You are _not_."

He grabs his keys out of the dish, and Jess lets out a frustrated huff.

"You're doing it." Jess frowns and gives him one last glare as he fumbles for the doorknob behind him. "Nick?"

"Booyah," he says before slipping out the door. It rattles in the frame behind him.

Jess groans and rolls her eyes. "He did," she mutters, staring up at the ceiling in exasperation. "God."

She stalks back to her bedroom and slips back into bed next to Sam. _Should she tell him?_ No. Acknowledging that it happened would make it real, something more than just the silly, inconsequential outcome of a dumb drinking game among friends. That's not what she needs right now. She doesn't want a relationship. She wants something meaningless and fun. That's why this whole kiss thing is no big deal. Her and Sam aren't exclusive. It's not cheating if they're not in a relationship. She can't be cheated on if they're not in a relationship.

Jess nestles back under the covers, gnawing at her thumbnail. She just won't tell him. She kept the other kiss a secret. What's one more?

* * *

The weight of it makes her anxious and jittery all day, but she manages to keep all her secrets safely locked up in her heart. Sam doesn't seem to notice. He leaves for work without any preamble, just a kiss on the cheek and the empty promise that he'll text her later. Cece gives her a worried look over breakfast, and the guys periodically come up to her to see if she's doing alright, which she responds to with a forced laugh and a clipped, "I'm fine."

Jess grabs her knitting needles and gets to work, trying to drown out the alarm bells ringing in the back of her head with the clicking of her needles while also stifling all her sexual frustrations in yarn. She churns out a new scarf, a floppy beanie, matching mittens for Winston and Furguson, and a mini knitted version of Hillary Clinton. It helps her keep her grip on her sanity, whatever little bit of it she has left.

Nick gets home late that night after everyone else has already gone to bed. It's just Jess all alone in the kitchen, sipping on a mug of tea to calm her racing heart enough to fall asleep. He tries to slink off to his room without her noticing, but she clears her throat to catch his attention.

He cringes and turns to face her. "Oh, hey, Jess. Didn't see you there."

She frowns, unimpressed.

"Alright, fine," Nick says with a resigned sigh, like he's going to actually be a rational adult about the situation. But then he shifts his grip on his briefcase and makes a sudden dash for his room.

"Nick!" Jess yells, chasing after him and catching the door just before he manages to get it shut. "You traitor!"

"I'm trying to avoid conflict!" he counters as he tries to wrestle the door free.

Jess grunts in frustration and presses her shoulder into the door. "Would you let me in, you jerk?"

He fights her off for another few seconds before realizing that she's too stubborn to give up this fight any time soon. Nick lets out an exasperated sigh before he relents, stepping away from the door and letting her in.

She stumbles inside, struggling to regain her balance. Nick tosses his briefcase onto his desk and shrugs out of his suit coat before rolling up the sleeves of his button down. It draws her attention to his forearms and then down to his hands, the hands that were all over her not even 24 hours ago, the hands that shaped her like putty into a twirly, lying mess. _Dumb, sexy Nick Miller. What a jerk._

"Will you cut that out?" Jess huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Nick rolls his eyes as he tugs his tie loose to free up the top few buttons of his shirt. "Oh, what did I do this time?"

"That," she says, gesturing to his workman's hands, the bit of newly exposed throat, the slight shadow of stubble on his stupidly handsome face.

"You're gonna have to be more specific, _Jessica_ ," he bites back in annoyance, but the way her full name rolls off his tongue sends an involuntary shiver coursing through her.

 _Ugh_. She's supposed to be pissed off at him, not getting more attracted to him. _Damn Miller, getting her all turned around_. "You know exactly what you did," she says with an accusatory tone, trying to stand her ground.

Nick sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks so tired all of a sudden, like the years of stress have finally caught up to him. She almost wants to feel bad for him. _Oh no, sister. Don't let him trick you into letting your guard down. Look where that got you last time._

He looks up at her and says seriously, "I'm sorry that I kissed you."

"Thank you," she says, a little surprised. She hadn't expected him to come clean so easily. But something about his apology doesn't quite sit right with her. If this was all it took, then why had he been avoiding her for so long? "I mean it was no big deal, so..."

"Right," he agrees, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No meaning at all."

She lets out a laugh, only slightly forced. "None!"

"You're acting a little bit weird about it," Nick says casually, waving a hand vaguely in her direction. "But honestly, for me, it was, like, a nothing kiss."

"Well," she purses her lips. She's not going to let him get away with it _that_ easily. She wants an answer from him, the reason why he kissed her last night. She deserves that much, at least. "I wouldn't say it was _nothing_."

Nick shakes his head and fixes his gaze at a stain on the floor. "Nope. No meaning."

Jess frowns at him. "I mean, I find that a _little_ hard to believe."

"What are you talking about?" he says, a nervous edge to his voice and a slightly panicked look on his features. "I was drunk. It was just some silly little dare."

But he wasn't drunk last night, that much she's sure about. He hadn't kept up with them during the bar crawl, and the kiss happened long after their game of True American. Maybe that was a valid excuse after the wedding, but it just doesn't hold up this time around. "You don't have to lie to me, Nick."

"I'm not," he insists. A bead of sweat drips down his temple, a dead giveaway. "It was a nothing kiss that meant nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeats.

"It was a drinking game, Jess. I was just finishing the game," Nick says resolutely. But his forehead is already ridiculously damp. He's a terrible liar.

"One: The game was over," she says, not even bothering to hold back her know-it-all tone as she counts out the points on her fingers. "And two: _you_ were the one who couldn't kiss me during the actual game."

Nick's eyes widen slightly. "That's not-"

"What were your words, again?" she asks, trying to provoke him. " _Not like this?_ "

"Shut up," he mutters, glaring down at his feet.

Jess crosses her arms back over her chest as she haughtily says, "I'm just repeating what you told me."

"Fine, Jess!" he yells, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "Do you want me to say it?"

"Yes!" she screams. This is what she wanted. An argument or fight or screaming match or _anything_ that might release this tension that's been building between them into some kind of cathartic event instead of the two of them just sitting around and waiting for nothing to happen.

"The kiss meant something to me!" His words echo in the tiny box of his room, ringing in Jess' ears. "It was like a damn fairy tale, that kiss! It was the best kiss of my life. Are you happy now?"

She had expected his words, and yet they still managed to take her completely by surprise. Part of her had almost been hoping that he was telling the truth before, that the kiss didn't matter. Or that it did matter, but not in any serious way. She had expected him to admit to the attraction, not whatever this is, and it leaves her breathless all over again. Now that she has his answer, she has no idea what to do with it. "No!"

"No?" he repeats uncertaintly.

Jess frowns. "You can't say that to me, Nick."

"Then what? What do you want me to say?" Nick asks, almost desperate in his frustration. He runs his hand through his hair again, staring at her expectantly. After a moment of silence passes he lets out a long exhale and turns his gaze back down to the ground, that exhaustion and resignation seeping back into his features. "I mean, sure, it meant something to me, but I was drunk and not thinking. We both know it's a bad idea; that's why I didn't want to tell you what it meant to me. But it's fine. We can just pretend it never happened. I mean, I barely remember it anyways."

Jess sighs in exasperation. Great. They'll pretend like it never happened. And then two months later he'll get drunk and kiss her again, and she won't push him away because she's still stupidly half in love with him. And then the next morning he won't remember it, and they'll just keep repeating the same cycle over and over again, never moving on from each other and stuck in a perpetual loop of 'will-they-won't-they' like some cheesy, second-rate romantic comedy.

"God, Miller," she groans in frustration. "Why do you keep doing this?"

Nick frowns his dumb little turtle frown that's equal parts obnoxious and adorable. She hates his stupid face and all the ridiculous expressions it makes. "Doing what?"

"Kissing me when you're vulnerable and too drunk to know better. I mean the first time was-"

"The _first_ time?" he cuts her off, his eyes wide in surprise.

 _Shit._ "Uh-"

Nick's brow furrows, and he lifts up an accusatory finger. "Wait a second-"

"Nope!" Jess squeaks nervously. "Nothing."

His eyes narrow as he stares her down seriously. "Because if it wasn't last night-"

She lets out a giggle-shriek before she has the chance to cover her mouth up with her hands to prevent any of her other secrets from spilling out of her big mouth.

"Jessica..." he says, voice pitched low and almost dangerous. "When was the first time?

There's a few seconds when she considers lying. She could tell him that she misspoke or misremembered, but she doubts that he'd buy it. Or she could make something up from scratch and say that he had gotten drunk two weeks ago and given her an innocent peck on the lips. But deep down she knows that he deserves the truth. The whole, messy truth. It was wrong of her to keep it from him to begin with.

"I-" Jess takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It was after the wedding."

" _The wedding?_ " he repeats, equal parts shocked and angry. "That was _months_ ago. I was still with-"

"With Caroline, I know." She wrings her hands together. The heavy clump of guilt in her stomach sinks even lower. "That's why I couldn't tell you."

Nick huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Couldn't tell me?" His tone is harsh and accusatory. It hits her like a slap in the face, and she recoils at the strength of his words. " _You couldn't tell me?_ "

Jess crosses her arms defensively and bites back, "You're the one who drank so much that you couldn't remember it the next morning!"

"I asked you if anything happened that night," he counters angrily. "And you said-"

"I was just trying to protect you!" she yells. She was. It's not like she was trying to one-up him. She was trying to do what was best. "Things with Caroline were complicated, and you didn't need the whole kiss thing getting in the way."

He frowns at her. "So you lied to me."

His words echo in her ears, and she can almost feel the visceral twist of the knife, a stabbing pain in her chest to match the anxious churning of guilt in her stomach. Jess fights back tears and says softly, "Nick-"

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he cuts off her apology, his voice firm and unyielding.

"Yes!"

Nick can't even look at her anymore and keeps his gaze trained down at his feet. "Stop lying to me, Jess."

"It's not because I didn't want to," she insists truthfully, even as her heart crumbles to pieces deep within her chest. "I did. But I didn't know how. I never meant for you to find out like this."

"You never meant for me to find out at all," he mutters, his voice wavering towards the end.

Jess can feel the tears welling in her eyes. "Please, Nick."

"No, just-" He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I need time to process this."

"I'm sorry," she pleads. "Really, Nick. I'm so, so incredibly sorry."

Nick turns away from her, his jaw clenched. "Just get out, Jess. I can't be around you right now."

* * *

The next few days are torture. Nick avoids her entirely, either holed up at work or locked away in his bedroom. Jess is sick with guilt, the feeling gnawing up her insides and keeping her awake at night, her nerves too fried and her brain too frantic with worry to sleep.

"What did you do to him?" Winston asks her the next morning when Nick leaves for his room the moment Jess walks into the kitchen.

Jess bites down hard on her lower lip. "It's between us."

Winston frowns, but he doesn't try to push her on it.

Schmidt stops by her room later that evening when she's working on her 45th granny square for what's going to be the world's largest afghan. "Did something happen with you and Nick?"

She glares down at her crochet hook and nods.

"Want me to talk to him about it?" he offers.

Jess shakes her head, fighting off the urge to cry for the seventeenth time today.

Schmidt doesn't look convinced. He leaves her be, but then drops off a mug of tea a few minutes later, a worried look in his eyes like he's dying to ask her about it.

Cece comes over that night and takes one look at her before frowning and softly saying, "Oh, babe." She pulls her into a tight hug, and Jess lets a few tears fall onto her best friend's shoulder.

She hates this. She hates not being able to talk to Nick, that he can't bear to look at her or even be in the same room as her anymore. Jess wants to be there for him. She wants nothing but the best for him. She wasn't trying to hurt him. She really wasn't. But she had lied to him. For months. As much as she tries to justify it, the bottom line is that she lied. He had asked her if anything happened, and she had told him no. She thought it had been the right choice. She made that decision and now she has to face the consequences of her actions.

It's awful. She's so upset with herself, disappointed that she didn't just tell him back when it happened. But if she had to make the choice again, she's not sure if she would. And she knows that what she did was wrong, but she's still frustrated that Nick refuses to talk to her about it. She knows that she hurt him, but he's not even giving her the chance to make things right. It's eating her up inside and she can't do anything about it. Jess is a fixer; she's not used to leaving things broken.

She's also just sad. She misses hanging out with him at the end of a long day. She misses hearing about how Abbi is doing. She misses his bad jokes. His smile. His laugh. She misses her friend. And it pains her to know that he's hurting, and she wants to be the one to comfort him, to be a shoulder for him to lean on. But she can't be, because she's the one that hurt him.

One morning she's making breakfast when she stumbles upon a sheet of paper someone left behind on the kitchen counter. She gives her eggs a quick glance before unfolding the paper and skimming over it. Jess' heart sinks. It's a rental application for apartment 4C, and Nick's already begun to fill out the first half. Part of her wants to run it through the shredder or to hide it somewhere he won't be able to find it. Instead she digs around in the junk drawer for a sticky note and a pen.

 _You left this on the counter. We'd all miss you, but best of luck. Jess_

 _(I'm sorry)_

She slides it underneath the closed door of his room, hoping that he'll notice it before he slips on it and breaks a hip.

* * *

That evening she's sitting in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone while she pokes at her dinner. Even her appetite is suffering lately, her stomach has been too sick with guilt for her to muster up the desire to eat anything. Nick walks in, and she automatically starts to gather up her things to move to her bedroom and give him space.

"Sorry," she mutters, awkwardly staring down at her plate to avoid his gaze. "Give me a minute and I'll get out of your way-"

"No, stay," he insists.

Jess looks up at him in surprise. She's pretty sure these are the first words he's actually said to her in days. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yeah. I wanted to talk to you, actually."

"Oh." Jess sets her plate back down and shuts off her phone. "Nick, look, I'm so sorry-"

"Jess-"

"No, let me finish," she interrupts. This might be her only chance to apologize, and she'll be damned if he tries to brush her off. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I didn't want to hurt you, and I'm so, so sorry that I did. Really. I'm deeply, truly sorry, and I know that you probably don't want to ever talk to me or see me again but-"

"I forgive ya, Jess."

Her heart stutters in her chest. Nick's looking at her with that soft gleam in his eyes again, and the tight knot that's been buried deep within her chest finally unravels. "Really?"

"Yeah." The corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly, the barest hint of a smile, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I missed you," he admits quietly. "I missed my friend."

"I missed my friend, too," she agrees. "I couldn't bear the thought of you moving out."

"I tried," Nick says, that tiredness and self-disappointment seeping back into his words. "But I couldn't go through with it. I'd miss you-" He clears his throat. "All of you too much. Even if it was just across the hall."

Jess smiles at him. "We'd miss you too."

Nick returns her grin and turns towards the fridge to grab a beer. He offers one up to her, and she takes it with a smile of gratitude. Then he pulls out one of the stools at the island and sits down beside her.

"You know, maybe you're right. Let's just forget about it," she says. "The kiss- or kisses."

Nick nods and takes a sip of his beer. "Yeah. That's probably for the best."

Jess lets out a long exhale. Part of her still doesn't want to forget about it. Maybe that first kiss was just a drunken mistake, but there was something different about the second kiss. A spark that she doesn't want to smother. But if they don't forget about it, then what? Would they try to get together? They literally live across the hall from each other. Nick's daughter was one of her students. Nick isn't even legally divorced yet. It's a recipe for disaster. Things would never work out between the two of them. And then she'd lose him for real.

So she decides to let it go. "It's for the best."

"Well, I'm glad we got that settled," Nick says. He holds his beer out towards her, and she knocks the neck of her bottle against his with a dull _clink_.

"Yup," Jess agrees before taking a sip. "Everything's out in the open."

Nick smiles at her as he takes a drink, the corners of his mouth upturned and his eyes bright. It sets off a flutter in her chest, but that's just a reflex, old feelings that she doesn't have anymore, that she's going to ignore until they're gone forever. They're just friends. That's all they'll ever be. She's fine with that. That's what she wants.

There's a knock at the front door, and Jess reluctantly gets up from her seat to go answer it. Nick trails after her, leaning against the back of the couch while she opens the door. It's Sam, all decked out in his leather jacket, his helmet tucked underneath his arm. It takes her by surprise, because he usually texts her at least an hour before they meet up. They've never hooked up this early in the evening. There's a heavy tension in the air, the result of a kiss that only two of them know about.

"Hey, Sam. My main squeeze," Jess jokes, trying to break the silence between the three of them.

He nods and gives her an awkward half-smile. "Jess, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

Jess frowns, suddenly uneasy. "Sure."

"Hey, Nick," Sam says, nodding to him as Jess leads him back to her room.

She shuts the door behind them with a soft click. Sam sets his helmet down on her desk, carefully avoiding the piles of carefully wound yarn.

"So what's up?"

He clears his throat nervously. It's weird, because he's always so cool and collected. This is the first time she's ever really seen him worried about something. "I want to be exclusive," he says bluntly.

"What?" she asks, smiling uncertaintly.

"Jess, I know this was just supposed to be a hook-up thing but..." He lets out a sigh. "I don't know. I want more than that."

"What?" she asks again. Surely she's mishearing him. This isn't what she signed up for. What they have is supposed to be Casual with a capital C. No feelings, no attachments, no heartbreaks.

"I have feelings for you," Sam says with a nervous smile. "And I want to try to make this work."

Jess' heart sinks. They had talked about this before, back when she was trying to figure out exactly how a booty-call was supposed to work. They both wanted to keep feelings out of it, to avoid making things complicated. That's what their whole 'relationship' is built on. They can't go back and change the foundation now.

"No." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. No."

"Look, I know it's intimidating," he says as he takes her hands in his. "But that's no reason not to do something."

Jess pulls her arms out of his grasp. "That's not it, Sam! We don't know anything about each other!"

"Of course we do," he insists, reaching for her once again.

But he doesn't. Which didn't matter when they were only using each other for sex. She can still remember what he told her after that second night. " _I don't care what you like or what your name is, or anything about you. And the good news is you don't have to care about me either. We can still tear each other apart._ " That was perfect for a one night stand. But she can't imagine starting a serious, committed relationship with someone like that.

She takes a half step away from him. "I don't even know where you work. Or what you do."

"I'm a pediatrician in a children's hospital," he explains. "But what does that matter?"

"It _matters_ , Sam! You don't know anything about me either." Jess crosses her arms over her chest and shies further away from him. "You don't actually care about me. You care about the _idea_ of me."

That's what it boils down to. Sam doesn't really like her. He likes some dancer girl named Katie, whoever that is. But Jess isn't Katie, and as much fun as it is to pretend that she is for one night, she can't keep that charade up in a relationship. She wants to be herself, not the sexy seductress that Sam's imagined her to be.

"Then we'll get to know each other," he insists. "We'll go on dates and-"

"No," she interrupts. _She can't lead him on._ "I'm sorry, but that's not where I am right now."

Sam sighs, his shoulders slumping. "Alright. I mean... I had to at least try."

Jess purses her lips and stares down at her feet. "I think you should go," she whispers.

"Okay." He nods before picking up his helmet. "I'll uh- see you around."

"Bye, Sam."

He leaves and Jess throws herself back on the bed with a groan. _Ugh._ Why does this have to be so hard? Can't the Universe let her have one uncomplicated relationship? She pulls one of her pillows into her arms and hugs it tight to her chest.

There's a knock on her door and then Nick pokes his head inside. "Hey, is everything alright? I just saw Sam leave."

Jess nods. "We sorta broke up."

"Oh, Jess." He walks in and sits down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." She shrugs. "I mean, we were never really together so..."

"Still, that sucks." He frowns sympathetically and places his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she agrees. They sit there quietly for a moment, and Jess is still trying to process what just happened. "Do you wanna watch _Dirty Dancing_?"

Nick smiles down at her. "Sure."

* * *

A few days later she has her first day of work at her new job. It's mostly just new hire paperwork, but she's back in an actual _classroom_. She feels like she's walking on a cloud all day, and she's already drafting lesson plans and new bulletin board designs in her head. Her new boss is the loveliest woman she's ever met, and Genevieve told her flat out that she was already considering Jess for an administrative track the minute that she expressed interest in it. And her coworkers are just as excited for school to start as Jess is. At least three of them have reached out to her about collaborative projects, both across the disciplines and grade years.

She's absolutely beaming when she gets home from work, and she heads off to her room ready to start drafting in her idea journal. She pushes the door to her room open and comes to a sudden stop.

Nick's sitting on her bed, and he jumps up to his feet when he sees her walk in. He's wearing a suit. That isn't anything out of the ordinary; Nick wears a lot of suits. But it's the really nice one that he wore to the gala, every button carefully done and each crease meticulously pressed, which is a little strange. He's holding a bouquet of roses in his hands, and he clears his throat as he looks at her with a nervous smile.

"You're all fancy," she says jokingly, trying to figure out what he's doing.

"Jess," he says, his voice deep and serious. "Earlier, when we said we wanted everything out in the open, well there was still something that I was afraid to tell you."

"What didn't you tell me?" she asks faintly, even though she's afraid that she already knows his answer.

"I like you, Jess." Nick's eyes are warm with affection. "I really, _really_ like you."

Jess can feel her heart kicking into high gear, tapping out a frantic rhythm as the blood rushes through her ears. This isn't what she thought she wanted, but at the same time it's what some small part of her had desperately hoped would happen between the two of them.

But no. They can't. She just told Sam that she wasn't ready for a relationship. Now Nick has feelings for her, but she's still in the same place, where she can't focus on anything but the immediate future. She doesn't want to make long-term plans only to have them shattered. And is it even fair to Sam for her to turn him down only to make an exemption for Nick? When did her life suddenly turn into a real-life version of _The Bachelorette_?

"Nick..." she says warily.

"I know. I know it's crazy, but I care about you, Jess. I don't want to keep dancing around this and pretending that I don't have feelings for you. If you feel even a fraction of what I feel, I want you to give us a chance."

Jess remains unconvinced. "I _can't_ , Nick. And you shouldn't either! I mean you're not even legally divorced yet. Isn't this a little soon?"

Nick frowns at her. "Every one of you has been telling me that I need to move on from Caroline. That I need to get back out there. That's what I'm doing. That's what this is."

"But this is different! This is _us_!"

"Exactly!"

"Nick." Jess sighs. "It's not like that. You're not seeing things clearly."

"I'm pretty sure that I know my own feelings," he says defensively.

"That's not what I'm saying." She takes a deep breath and tries to find the right way to say what he doesn't want to hear. "You just got out of a _fifteen year_ relationship, Nick. You don't even know what you want."

"I do. I want you."

"You don't know that," she says sadly. "You can't keep saying that to me."

His brow furrows. "Jess..."

"I know this is hard to hear, but I don't think that this is what you think it is," she says gently. "I think you're just vulnerable now that you aren't with Caroline, and you've convinced yourself that this is real when you might just be clinging to me because I was around when she wasn't."

Nick looks devastated. "It's not like that."

"But how are you sure?" Jess can feel the tears building in her eyes. "How do you know this won't just fall apart once you realize I'm not who you think I am?"

"I'm not on my knee asking you to marry me," he says, his voice wavering. "I'm just asking you to give us a chance. Tell me you don't want this, Jess. Tell me you don't want this too."

"I-" Jess hesitates before whispering, "I'm sorry, Nick."

He doesn't say anything. He just stares at her. There's a look of crushing disappointment on his features, and it takes all of her self control not to cave into her emotions and tell him that she's changed her mind.

Nick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I know this is complicated. And terrifying. We've both been hurt by people before. But I think that if you really love someone, it's simple. And when I look at you, all of that other stuff in my life goes away."

A few hot tears slip down her face. "Nick..."

"I know you have all your reasons for why we won't work, but I just wanted to tell you that you deserve something amazing. And-" He swallows nervously. "You deserve love. And I want you to find that. I really do."

He didn't say the words, but he might as well have. And it makes it even harder for her to walk away. But she has to. No matter how much it hurts the both of them.

"I'm sorry, Nick," she says again.

"I know you are, Jess. You don't have to keep apologizing to me. You just don't feel it."

"I was coming home to tell you that I'm going on a three-week conference for my new job.I think the space would be good for us."

"Okay." Nick stares at her for a moment, heartbroken, and Jess hates that she's the one who hurt him this way. "If that's what you want."

Jess nods and looks around, trying to figure out her best route of escape. She goes into her closet and slides the door shut. She leans up against the door and slides all the way down until she hits the ground, her knees curled up close to her chest. Jess waits until she hears the sound of Nick leaving her room before she lets herself cry.


	28. Zen Jess

Jess leaves for her trip early the next morning, and Nick awkwardly sits on the couch and waves goodbye at her as she wheels her suitcase out the door.

"See ya," she mutters with a sad smile, and then she's gone.

Nick groans and scrubs his hands over his face. He needs to leave for work. Normally he would have already been out the door by this time, but he couldn't quite bring himself to leave today, his subconscious still clinging to some stupid sliver of hope that she might have changed her mind some time between yesterday afternoon and this morning. But instead he just had his heart crushed once again, his hope for their future snatched out of his hands before it even began.

He feels like an idiot. Of course she doesn't want him. He's known this entire time. He let himself get deluded by hope, that rush of heady dopamine and endorphins from being near her. He had refused to believe the truth, even when it had been right in front of him this entire time. Why else would she keep their first kiss a secret? This is what he expected to happen, the outcome he saw in his head when he decided to open himself up to this, but it still hurts. It seems just as impossible to love her as it does not to.

He couldn't believe Jess when she had told him about what had happened the night of the wedding. He didn't want to believe her. All those times he insisted to Caroline there was nothing going on between him and Jess, and he had been lying the whole time. And not only had he been lying to her, he'd been lying to himself. It wasn't in February when he started to develop feelings for her, it was even further back. Maybe he's had them ever since he first met her.

Nick had wanted to be mad at her for keeping such an important secret from him, but he just couldn't stay mad at her, no matter how hard he tried. He cares about her too much. Maybe he really is in too deep, so blinded by love that there's nothing that could keep him from eventually coming back to her. It doesn't make sense for them to work. They're polar opposites, constantly bickering over even the tiniest things. The allure just being the novel, the unfamiliar, and enough circumstantial encounters to confuse that for love. Could she be right? Is he just clinging to her now that Caroline's no longer in his life?

She told him she wanted to pretend like it didn't happen. That it was meaningless to her. That should've been enough to make him realize that this wasn't going to work. That it was never going to work. But there was something about her words that made him the slightest bit hopeful, a tiny voice in the back of his head that said _what if?_ , a little sliver of a promise in the way she had looked at him, the way she kept pressing him when he had lied and said the kiss meant nothing to him. But that must have all been just his imagination. He's sure there are a hundred other reasons to explain her actions.

But because he's a complete, self-sabotaging idiot, he ignored the warning signs from her telling him to stay the hell away from her. He had charged right in, poured his feelings out onto the table without thinking through the consequences. Look at where that got him. Her look of pity is still burned into the back of his eyelids, her disappointed tone still ringing in his ears. The visceral pain of her rejection runs straight through his chest, a deep ache that leaves him nauseous.

 _Pull yourself together, dumbass._ He gives himself a slap on each cheek before hauling himself off the couch and leaving for work, replaying their fight in his head during the entire car ride to the office. For once he's grateful for such a busy day at work, it helps keep his head occupied. There's no room for Jess in his thoughts when his entire brain is crammed with complicated arguments, counterarguments, legal jargon, case evidence, and testimonies. He takes extra work home with him. With Jess gone for the coming weeks he'll have a sudden influx of free time, and he doesn't want to spend all of it moping around and feeling sorry for himself.

He gets Chinese takeout on the ride home and then sets up at the dining room table, stacks of paperwork and bundles of case documents carefully arranged around boxes of fried rice and dumplings. He settles in for a long night of paperwork, slowly trying to dig through the never-ending mountain of reading while absently picking at his dinner, trying his best to focus on the jumbled wording instead of the brief flashes of Jess that keep insistently popping up in the back of his mind. Having work to do helps, as does the beer buzz that clouds up the lingering thoughts of his failure.

Winston gets home a little while later. He drops his gym bag on the couch before heading off to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Oh man, police academy kicked my _ass_ today," he complains while stretching out his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Nick looks up from his notes. "How's that going? Aren't you almost done?"

"Two final weeks." Winston slumps into the seat next to him. "Apparently they want to squeeze as much pain as they possibly can into them."

Nick nods sympathetically and finishes off his beer, adding the bottle to the line of empties on the opposite end of the table.

Winston looks him over with a raised eyebrow before settling back into his chair. He lets out a big sigh, falling into Big Brother Winston mode. "Alright, what happened?"

 _Shit. He must really be a mess_. Nick rubs his hand over his face. "I kissed Jess," he admits and looks back over at Winston, preparing for the worst. "Say what you're gonna say."

Winston reaches over to slap him upside the head. Nick winces and fights him off with a few swats of his own before they both settle back into their respective seats, eyeing each other warily.

"I thought that's what you were gonna say," Nick says, rubbing at where Winston landed a well-timed hit to the back of his neck.

"You _idiot_ ," Winston mutters sourly, his shoulders still guarded.

"I couldn't help it," Nick admits. "She kept telling me to move on, that I needed to find someone who wasn't Caroline, and I swear she looked at me differently when she said it, like it was _me_ that she wanted. Then there was the whole Clinton Rules mess, where she literally _begged_ me to kiss her." He sighs. Even the memory sends a shiver down his spine. "You should've seen her, tarting around in that little pink robe of hers. I'm a _man_ , Winston. Little pink robes are my catnip."

Winston rolls his eyes. "Well, what did you _do_?"

"I apologized. Said that we should just forget it ever happened."

"Good."

"And then-"

"Oh no."

"Well, she broke things off with Sam, and I thought: _This is my chance_." Nick twirls his pen between his fingers. "So I told her how I felt."

"And what did she say?"

"That she was sorry for me." He grimaces. "And that she didn't feel the same way."

Winston cringes sympathetically. "Ouch."

"Yeah." Nick frowns down at his notes. "And now she's gone for her teaching conference or whatever, and I'm here, drinking to forget."

"Shit." Winston shakes his head. "Sorry, man."

"Eh." He shrugs and gestures to his plethora of paperwork. "I've got plenty to do, so..."

Winston frowns and reaches over to give him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself, alright? There are other girls out there."

 _But they're not Jess_. "Yeah."

"Look, man. I know it sucks." Winston frowns down at his water bottle. "But maybe this is a good thing. You got some closure. You can find someone else."

Nick sighs. He didn't want closure. He wanted the exact opposite of closure. Jess had already opened up this whole new realm of possibilities for him. She made him see his life more clearly and made him stop being so hard on himself. Maybe she was just being _nice_ , but he knows you just don't meet someone who does that for you everyday. And it wasn't one-sided either. He'd done his best to help her too, to encourage her self confidence that she struggled to rebuild after what happened with Spencer. Being in a relationship with her was supposed to do all that and more. _She changed his life._ Of that he is sure.

He thought he knew what love was before her. There was Caroline, during the good times. There was Abbi, his daughter who he loves more than anything. But with Jess, it's entirely different too; an entire universe unto itself. It's that pull to keep her in his life, to be around her even when she's angry at him, to open himself up to the world in a way he's always been afraid to. He'll fight anyone who tells him that isn't love, her included. If it isn't love, it's as close to being love as anything on this goddamn planet, and he won't give it up without a fight.

Winston gives him one final look of pity before retreating to his room and leaving Nick to wallow in his own misery.

* * *

The weeks that Jess is gone crawl by even slower than he thought possible. Nick tries to call her a few times, but she must not have service wherever she is, because he always ends up at her voicemail. Or maybe she's intentionally ignoring him, too busy with some new guy, a teacher who's all posh and dreamy and a thousand times more suited to Jess than Nick will ever be.

God, he's going to have to keep seeing Jess date other guys. It's not like he can just pretend they don't exist, not with her just across the hall. Not when they stop by to pick her up, not when they hang out around the loft doing coupley things with her, not when she brings them home for date night, not when he can hear the faint noises coming from her bedroom because of their ridiculously thin walls, not with them making her feel how he should be making her feel. It's probably selfish that he doesn't want to wish that happiness on to her. He was being sincere when he told her he wanted her to find the perfect guy. He just wants that guy to be him, as impossibly unrealistic as that is.

Maybe he should ask Remy about the apartment across the hall again, but this time he'll finally go through with it. But if a three-week Jess drought was unbearable, he's not sure if he'd be able to handle cutting her out of his life entirely. He'd end up in 4D more than his new place, always drifting back to Jess like some pathetic low-life, hoping for some scraps of her affection. She's like an addiction he can't quit. No matter how hard he tries he'll just end up relapsing.

* * *

Nick gets home from a grueling day at the office, ready to crash for a quick power nap before getting right back to work. He's been daydreaming about the feeling of his head hitting the pillow since the beginning of his three-hour conference call this morning, and he can't wait to finally make it a reality. The front door is unlocked so he lets himself in, nudging it shut behind him with his foot as he precariously balances a box of case files in his arms and his briefcase over his shoulder.

"Do you need any help with that?" Winston calls from the kitchen.

"I got it," Nick counters as he stumbles over to the dining room table. He manages to set everything down with a soft _thud_ before it tumbles down to the ground. "Ugh, Liz is really busting my balls on this case, I swear," he complains and riffles through a few messy files on top of the pile. "I mean, _oh-_ "

Jess is sitting at the kitchen island on either side of Winston and Schmidt. She's in some sort of funky purple sundress with her hair all messy and loose, a few locks pulled back into a braid that's interwoven with some sort of colored string. There's something silvery in her nose, and it seems so out of place that it takes a minute to register that it's a nose ring. He's almost too distracted by the whole hippie thing she's got going on to notice that she's smiling at him, iridescent and dazzling, and Nick can feel his heart skip a beat.

"Hey, Jess," he stammers, his throat suddenly dry.

Her eyes drift shut as she places her hands together and bows her head slightly. "Namaste."

"What the fuck?"

Jess laughs, soft and bubbly and _damn_ Nick missed that sound.

"She's Zen Jess now," Winston teases, grinning widely at his own joke.

"I hate it," Schmidt says in disgust. "You look like you walked out of a white woman's granola commercial. You're not even wearing shoes."

Jess just smiles and shakes her head, tossing the long curls of her hair back over her shoulder.

Nick's brow furrows. "I thought you were going to a teaching conference."

She smiles dreamily. "It was an open-minded learning experience-"

"Hippie school," Schmidt cuts in.

Jess rolls her eyes. "I'm not a hippie."

"Oh, you're not pulling the vegan synthetic wool over my eyes," Schmidt says haughtily. "I saw you drinking kombucha this morning."

"Out of a glass jar," Winston adds.

Schmidt recoils at the memory. "Like a homeless woman peddling jars of urine to the masses."

Nick ignores them. "How was the retreat?"

"Good." Jess smiles again. "I went forest bathing."

"I don't know what on earth that is." Schmidt crosses his arms over his chest and scoots his stool a few inches further away from her. "But I'm _sure_ that it doesn't involve actual hygiene."

"It's like a nature walk," she explains. "It's all about reconnecting with the natural world around you, being connected to the earth and focusing on healing and rejuvenation. There's a lot of scientific research behind it."

"Oh good," Schmidt says sarcastically. "Well the next time you need a ride to the hospital, I'll just drive you out to the nearest outdoor recreational area."

"Sounds like someone needs his aura cleansed," Winston says, leaning in conspiratorially towards Jess.

"Don't you dare!" Schmidt yells defensively. "If you even think about touching my chakra I'll Calcutta-bitch up in here. Swear to god, I will!"

Winston and Jess dissolve into giggles as Schmidt continues to sputter. Nick watches them, still a little in shock to finally see and hear Jess for the first time in weeks. He'd missed her, and badly. Some part of him had hoped that getting some space would clear the air between them, that his feelings would disappear once she wasn't constantly around him. But distance truly does make the heart grow fonder, and he's just fallen even deeper in love with her. Just being in the same room with her is making him feel dizzy, like the space is slowly starting to collapse on them, until they're the only two people left in the world. Except that's not the way she feels about him. And if he's any kind of respectable man then he'll just accept that and move on.

"I'm gonna take this to my room," Nick says quickly, scooping up his mess of paperwork. "So I won't be in your way."

"You're not in our way," Jess insists, her grin slipping off of her face.

He shakes his head and hoists his things back up into his arms. "Nah, don't worry about it."

Nick does his best to ignore her disappointed frown as he retreats to the safety of his bedroom. He sets his things down on his rickety little desk and lets out a long exhale. He doesn't know how he managed to convince himself that things would be easier once she came back, that the visceral ache in his chest would subside into something more manageable. Instead it's worsened. To have her so close and yet know he'll never have her, that she'll never want him.

He scrubs a hand over his face and sits down heavily on his desk chair. He pulls out a few documents with a resigned sigh.

"Knock knock," Jess says, peering her head around his slightly opened door. "Can I come in?"

Nick spins his chair around to face her. "Yeah, of course."

Jess walks in and sits down on the edge of his bed. She rests her weight back on her hands and looks up at him with a smile, and Nick can feel the erratic thumping of his heart inside his chest. She looks so different, all relaxed and easy, the stress of the last few months of uncertainty lifted off of her shoulders. The trip seems to have done wonders for her self-confidence, even in the way she carries herself. It's good to see the Old Jess back, even if she's all wrapped up in this weird, hippie package.

"So, _Zen Jess_ , huh?" he asks, leaning his elbow on the desk behind him.

"New school, new crowd." She shrugs. "I'm just trying to fit into their whole thing."

He nods in understanding. He learned that the hard way back when he first started at the firm, when he fought his way to the top of the other new hires by developing a tough, spiky exterior that ended up carrying over into everything else in his life. At least Jess' new alter-ego seems to be a good bit healthier than his cutthroat coping skills. But he knows her, and how Type-A she can be. He gives her about a week before this whole loosey-goosey thing blows over.

"Well, Jess." He sighs and scratches at the corner of his jaw in thought. "You don't have to be something you're not. Just be yourself, and if they don't appreciate Jessica Day, then there's something wrong with them."

"Thanks, Nick." She grins at him, painfully pretty in his dimly lit room.

He feels the pang of his unrequited love for her deep in his chest. It's a punch to the gut, and he blames it for the reason he ends up opening his stupidly truthful mouth. "I missed ya," he blurts out before his brain has a chance to catch up to him and filter out the confession.

Jess smiles wistfully at him. "I missed you, too."

And there's a moment, right there, where Nick _swears_ there's something between them. Something that's not just one-sided, something that's not just him projecting his isolation and fear of being alone on to her. Jess looks at him, _really looks_ , and there's this glimmer to her eyes that says she missed him with the same intensity that he did.

"Jess-" he starts.

"I-" she says at the same time.

They both falter at hearing each other. Nick chuckles and shakes his head. "Go ahead."

Jess takes in a deep breath. "I- I wanted to apologize for where I left things before I, well, left."

All the air gets caught up in Nick's lungs, but he manages to whisper, "Oh?"

"Yeah," Jess wrings her hands together. "Just, I'm figuring myself out right now. And I'm a mess. That's why I turned down Sam. I'm just not in a place where a relationship is what I want."

"Right," Nick says numbly.

"I'm single and I'm sufficient," Jess says with a sort of half-laugh, like she's not sure if it's supposed to be a joke or not.

He nods. He's not quite sure what he's supposed to think about this. On one hand, the chance of them getting together is officially out the window of possibilities. But on the other hand, and he _knows_ it's not realistic, she's not outright rejecting _him_. There's still some sort of chance that he could turn this around, that he could be there for her enough that she inevitably ends up falling for him just the way he fell in love with her. He just needs to play the waiting game, give himself some time to move on from Caroline and let his feelings for Jess settle out.

"Yeah, no. That makes sense." Nick nods reassuringly.

"Good." Jess smiles wistfully.

"Good," he agrees. "So, nose ring, huh?"

Jess blushes slightly. "My spirit leader, Flower, helped me do it."

"Really?"

"No," she admits with a laugh. "It's fake. I just wanted to freak out Schmidt."

Nick laughs, and he feels better than he has in weeks.

* * *

He keeps his distance from Jess for a while, testing out the waters of their now complicated friendship. It's great to have her back in his life, even as just a friend. One evening Nick's working at the dining room table when he's suddenly joined by both Winston and Schmidt on either side of his spot at the head of the table.

"Oh, hey guys. What's up?"

"Good, good." Winston answers dismissively. "Look, Nick, we're gonna get you back in the dating scene, man. What do you think about that?"

"Yeah, that's why we're here." Schmidt gestures between the two of them and then holds up his phone. "We're gonna put your profile up on Dice."

"Whadda mean? I got Jess." Nick looks at them in confusion. Maybe she's not interested in a relationship now, but there's a chance that she has feelings for him, and he's willing to gamble on even the slightest possibility.

Schmidt glances nervously over at Winston. "Well-"

"Yeah, uh-"

"We were thinking you could meet someone new," Schmidt suggests.

Winston nods in agreement. "What about someone you like even more than Jess?"

Nick frowns and furrows his brow. "I don't know, you guys, I don't quite see how that's possible."

"But hey," Winston cuts in. "It doesn't hurt to try, right?"

"Right," Schmidt confirms, barrelling on before Nick has a chance to protest further. "So first thing we gotta do is take your picture for the profile. Winston, if you'll just pass me the makeup and-"

"Oh, no makeup!" Nick cuts in, because he has to draw the line _somewhere_.

Schmidt frowns and stares him down skeptically. "Well, those eye bags are pretty bad, buddy."

Winston grimaces. "Yeah, I think we're gonna have to-"

Nick shrugs. "But I am who I am."

"Right, but-"

"Let's pretend you're _not_ who you are and actually try to attract a woman," Schmidt suggests.

Winston holds up the phone. "Look, I'm just gonna take the photo right now without the makeup and see how he likes it. Ready?"

Nick rolls his eyes. "Yeah."

He does his very best model pose, trying to remember what Caroline once told him about working his best angles. The camera goes off with a flash and Winston pulls up the pic before turning the the screen towards Schmidt so he can see it.

"Was that sexy?" Nick asks, craning his head to get a better look at the tiny phone screen. "That felt sexy."

Schmidt cringes at the picture and mutters to Winston. "We'll photoshop it."

Winston hums in agreement. "Yeah, I can see where this is going."

"Let's not do that. I'll just photoshop it."

Nick frowns and tries to make a grab for the phone. "You wanna take another one? I can do like, a sexy mayor looking out the window, deciding the future of my city."

"No." Winston shakes his head. "No we'll find another picture we can use and that'll be fine."

"Are you sure-"

"Yep," Schmidt insists. "We'll just figure it out, you know."

"Shouldn't I be the one doing the tapping down?" Nick asks in confusion, feeling like the situation has quickly spiraled out of his control.

"Nah, we'll do it for you," Winston says, already tapping away.

Schmidt leans over to rub at Nick's shoulder. "I know you better than you know yourself, man."

"Well, alright then..." he agrees reluctantly as the two of them conspiratorially whisper back and forth, occasionally glancing up at Nick. There's a wary feeling in the pit of his gut, but Nick brushes it aside. It's just dating. Not the type of dating that he's used to, but this is the world they live in now. What's the worst that could happen?

* * *

"Jess, please, I need your help. This place is fancy, and I don't know which fork to kill myself with."

He can hear her laugh on the other end of the line. "Calm down. I'm sure it's not _that_ bad."

"No, Jess, really," Nick hisses into his phone, trying to keep his voice down. "I'm literally hiding in the bathroom right now."

Jess laughs again. "You're overthinking it. Just get back out there and woo her with your manly charms."

"That's the problem. I'm too charming." He tugs on his tie, trying to loosen it and lessen the panicked feeling in his chest. "She's getting very sexually aggressive, and I feel a very real fear and it's very visceral."

"Nick," she laughs again. "I'm sure you're just reading into it. Besides, aren't you in the middle of a restaurant? It can't get that bad."

"She asked me if I had a latex allergy, and then followed up with whether I had any past psychological traumas that might incur further damage on my psyche." Nick shudders at the memory.

"Okay maybe you have a point," she admits.

"Just, please help me. I don't know what to do." Nick sighs and looks over his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He's a mess. "I haven't been on a first date in _fifteen_ years. I need you."

There's a long pause and for a minute Nick wonders if Jess hung up on him. "Alright, I'll be there in like ten. Jess to the rescue!"

Nick chuckles. "Thanks Jess, you're the best."

"Yep!" she says, popping the _p_. "Hang tight."

He hangs up his phone and tucks it back into the inner pocket of his jacket and checks his watch. Maybe he can hide out in the bathroom until Jess gets here. But he's already been cooped up in the men's room for five minutes. Any longer and his date will start to get suspicious or worse, come in looking for him. He eyes the window up above the stall and wonders if there's any chance he could squeeze himself through it. _No, don't be ridiculous. Just go back out there and stall until Jess gets here. No big deal._ Nick mills around in the bathroom for a few more minutes, gathering up his courage before he can tell his feet to move. Then he reluctantly gives himself one last glance in the mirror before heading back out into the restaurant.

"Sorry, there was a bit of a wait," he lies when he sits back down.

Emma looks at him with one skeptically raised eyebrow. "It's fine. For a minute I thought you chickened out on me."

Nick lets out a nervous laugh. "What? No. This is great."

"Mmhmm," she hums, swirling around the wine in her glass. "So are we doing this?"

He almost chokes on an ill-timed drink of his wine. "I- don't you want dessert first?"

"Oh, I'll get my _dessert_ ," she says with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

Nick swallows nervously. "I uh-"

"Nicholas!" Jess' shrill voice echoes in the dining area, and Nick's never been so glad to hear her. "Who is this?"

"Who are _you_?" Emma bites back defensively, looking Jess up and down skeptically.

"I'm Caroline, his _wife_." Jess retorts loudly, and as awkwardly uncomfortable as it is to be making a huge scene in such a small restaurant, Nick has to admit that she's good at this. "I guess he didn't tell you that he was married."

Emma looks over to Nick, eyes narrowed skeptically. "You told me you were divorced."

" _Divorced!"_ Jess shrieks, drawing the attention of a few people at the neighboring tables. Nick gives her a panicked look, trying to convey that she can tone it down a notch using only his eyes. But she doesn't seem to notice him and continues yelling. "But what about our baby?!"

" _Caroline_ ," Nick hisses in warning, making a discreet throat-cutting gesture to cut her off when Emma ducks her head down to pick up her purse.

"And our other baby!" Jess continues and points to her stomach.

"Well," Emma stands up from the table. "I'll leave you two to deal with this whole situation."

"And our _other_ other baby!" Jess cries out as Emma makes a hasty exit out of the restaurant. "How was that?" she whispers once Nick's date is out of earshot and plops down in to the newly empty seat across from him.

"I don't know," he mutters in response. "Why don't you ask nearly everyone else in the vicinity?"

Jess shrugs unapologetically and grabs a roll from the basket.

Nick waves down the waiter. "I think we're ready for the check!"

* * *

He closes out the tab in one of his most awkward interactions he's ever had with a waiter, and then he's leading Jess out to where he parked his car across the street.

"You wanna get a drink?" she asks, hands shoved into the pockets of her tiny shorts.

" _Yes_ ," Nick groans. After this dumpster fire equivalency of a first date, there's nothing he wants more than a stiff drink. A double whiskey on the rocks is calling his name. "But what about the twins?" he teases her as he opens up the passenger's side door.

Jess looks at him in confusion until the realization dawns on her and she laughs, bright and bubbly, echoing out into the dark street. Nick grins in response, ducking his head sheepishly as he shuts the door after she climbs in and then walks around to the other side of the car.

* * *

Three drinks later they're squeezed into a little booth at the Griffin. Jess' cheeks are flushed from her pink wine and Nick's head is a little fuzzy from the whiskey.

"What'd you think of my performance? It was good, right?" Jess insists with a giggle.

"It wasn't good," Nick says with mock seriousness. "It was _perfect_."

Jess laughs. "Thank you."

"I totally owe you one," Nick says, poking her in the arm. "I don't think I would have survived."

Jess rolls her eyes. "How'd you meet her, again?"

He lets out a long exhale and takes another sip of his drink. "Schmidt and Winston made me try a dating app thing. Emma is Schmidt's boss, so he knew more about her than just her profile. I don't know, she has an intense career and past divorce." Nick shrugs. "He thought it might work out.

"She didn't seem _that_ bad," Jess insists, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

Nick looks at her skeptically. "Maybe not. Maybe it's just me. Everyone nowadays tells you exactly what they're into before dessert, while I'm still struggling with the rules for when to hold someone's hand or lean in for the first kiss. Maybe the world just left me behind."

Jess hums thoughtfully. She looks out across the bar, eyes distant. Nick takes the moment to just look at her, to take in the long, tumbling curls of her hair, the delicate length of her elegant neck, the soft swell of her pink lips, and her big blue eyes, pupils dilated and lidded by her dark lashes. She's so pretty, just breathtakingly beautiful, even just existing. He has no idea how she manages to do that, to look as good as she does all the time. Sometimes he wonders if she's even real. But at the same time she's the most real person he knows, so open and honest.

She turns back to look at him and smiles, easy and gentle. Nick returns her grin, and reaches out to brush a piece of lint off her shoulder. Jess' gaze drops down to his lips for a half second before jumping back up to his eyes. Nick laughs, a short little huff of air, and he's not quite sure what's so funny. His hand is still resting on her shoulder, and there's the lingering taste of whiskey on his breath. Jess drifts an inch towards him, and that's enough of a sign for him.

Nick brings his hand up to her jaw and and goes in for a kiss. His lips land on her cheek as she turns her head away at the last minute, her shoulders tensing up in surprise.

"Woah," she stammers. "Woah, woah, woah."

Nick pulls back, and it suddenly hits him how much of a slimy, douchebag of a move that was. He slides down to the other end of the booth. _When did they get so close?_

"Woah, pal." Jess grimaces, leaning away from him.

"Well, that was a mistake," Nick says, pursing his lips and feeling like a real asshole.

Jess lets out a nervous laugh. "Yep."

"Shit, sorry." He shakes his head. _God, you idiot_. "Shit. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine."

"No, it's not," he insists. "I know you don't-" Nick sighs. "I didn't come here planning to do that to you. I'll stop doing that. I swear. I won't try to kiss you again."

Jess wraps her arms over her chest and nods. "Thanks."

The cab ride back to the loft is tense and awkward. Jess stares pointedly out the window the whole time. _You idiot_ , he thinks to himself. _You already got your answer. She doesn't want you._ Continuing to push her on it makes him a dick. The answer was an emphatic no. He's been leading himself on this whole time, clinging to a desperate thread of hope that was all in his imagination. Now it's time for him to accept that and move on.

* * *

He gets the official paperwork dissolving his marital union with Caroline two days later. Even though he knows it was the right decision, that they made the right choice, it still drops a heavy weight of guilt into the pit of his stomach that lasts all day. Nick's sitting in his work office, trying to focus on paperwork instead of mulling over all of his failures when there's a knock on his door.

"Come in," he says, not even looking up from his notes.

Julia opens the door and steps inside, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. "Meriwether said you had files for me?"

"Right, right." Nick waves her to come up closer to the desk. He passes the massive bundle of folders over to her. "Here ya go."

"Thanks." She tucks them under her arm and turns back towards the door.

Nick stands up quickly. "Actually, Julia..."

She raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Would you like to get dinner with me some time?"

A slow smile spreads over her face. "Sure."


	29. Jess and Julia

Jess strolls into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Nick and Julia are next to each other on the couch, arguing over the mountains of paperwork scattered around the coffee table and on the floor. She checks the time on the microwave. It's nearly midnight. The two lawyers have been hard at work ever since they first got back to the loft, their heads bent over complicated-looking documents, their matching black blazers thrown over the couch armrest.

"Well, if we look at the September 28th conversations there's a clear intent to close domestic manufacturing. That's before Deschanel dissolved the agreement with the contractors." Julia peers over the top of her glasses as she flips through a packet of notes.

Nick hums thoughtfully. "Yes, but there's several accounts of corporate making reassurances that the thousands of workers at the factories would be provided resources for other employment opportunities after their manufacturing was moved overseas."

"Well," Julia huffs. "They didn't specify _exactly_ what that would look like. Could've been a resume workshop no one attended."

"But that's not what was implied," Nick says with a frown. "I don't know. I think the prosecution makes a decent case."

Julia slides her glasses off her nose and places them up onto the top of her head. "It doesn't matter how decent their case is. Not with how much money Deschanel Industries is willing to throw at us. We could submit an orange peel into evidence with the millions they're spending on this case. Worst case scenario, the union runs out of money for a retainer and we win without even going to court."

Nick's brow furrows. "I guess, but-"

"Sounds like you two are hard at work," Jess interrupts cheerily. Their heads pop up and swivel to look over at where she's leaning against the kitchen island.

"Oh, hey, Jess," Nick says with a tired grin.

"Hi, Jess." Julia gives her a smile that looks only slightly forced before turning back to her work, her face falling back into a serious half-frown.

Jess sets her mug back down on the counter and grabs her dessert platter. Nothing cheers someone up like a Jessica Day Dessert™. She makes her way around to the couch.

"Like I was saying," Julia continues, highlighting a line of her carefully written notes. "I think we need to look at the documented events the company has held since the formal decision. See if we can find any communications between-"

"Would you like a cookie? Or a cupcake?" Jess interrupts, offering up the plate. "I made them myself."

Julia looks over at Nick, a little surprised, before turning back to Jess. "Oh, no. I'm okay. I'm not really a dessert person. I just don't eat it, usually."

"Okay," Jess says with a confused frown. _What is it with lawyers and not liking dessert?_ Well, Nick didn't, but she managed to win him over in no time. She plucks a cupcake off the tray and sets it on a napkin right beside Julia's stack of pens. "I'm just gonna put this, like, right here."

"I don't..." she tries to protest, but then sighs and gives in to Jess' insistence. "Okay. Fine."

Jess smiles and sits on the very edge of one of the couch cushions, carefully avoiding crushing any papers beneath her. "You're working late tonight."

"Yep," Julia says dismissively.

"Did you need any help? I've got a really good set of pens and highlighters," she offers. If there's one thing she knows, it's that making friends is all about persistence.

"Actually, you know what?" Julia glances down at her watch. "It's getting pretty late. I should probably head out."

"But it's already so late, you could stay the night!" she suggests, looking over to Nick with a conspiratorial wink. "I've got an extra toothbrush. I'm sure Nick wouldn't mind."

"Jess," he cuts in, his voice tense. "Can I talk to you real quick?"

Nick leads Jess into her bedroom, leaving Julia to sort through the paperwork and pack up her own things.

"What are you doing?" he hisses once they're out of earshot.

"I'm just trying to help you out," Jess whispers back.

Nick groans and rubs his hand over his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head as he says, "I don't need your help, Jess."

"You two have done nothing but paperwork this whole time," she explains, unconvinced. "She's going to think you don't even like her!"

"Stay out of this, okay?" he bites out, his eyes dark and serious.

"Okay," Jess agrees reluctantly and takes a step back, struck by Nick's harsh tone.

A look of regret flashes over Nick's face, and he opens his mouth to say something when they're suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat in the hallway.

"I'm leaving," Julia says, gesturing to her briefcase and the cardboard box of documents tucked under her arm. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Miller."

Jess waves at her. "Bye, Julia!"

Julia doesn't respond, just smiles at Nick before turning to leave, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floors. Nick chases after her, and Jess can barely overhear the two of them quietly talking before there's the sound of the front door closing as Julia leaves. Nick's own door slams shut a few minutes later, and it hits Jess like a punch to the gut. She hates knowing people are upset with her, and Nick most of all. She knows that Julia has to be important to him, and she's glad that he's found someone who makes him happy. That's all she really wants.

* * *

Things between Nick and Julia seemingly continue, but then again it's kinda tricky to tell. They don't really do the stereotypically coupley things, like hold hands or cuddle on the couch and watch a movie over a bottle of wine. Instead, they're just constantly working. They'll come back to the loft after staying overtime at the law office and cover the kitchen table and every neighboring flat surface with paperwork. Then they'll stay up until the early hours of the morning, reading and re-reading documents, scribbling notes in the margins and all over battered legal pads, debating practice arguments and running through different possibilities of lawsuits and countersuits.

In fact, Jess isn't even really sure if the two of them are together. It's entirely possible that the two are just assigned to work the same case, and that they're just friends who are working insane hours together. Julia has never stayed the night at the loft, and Jess has never actually seen them do anything more intimate than pass over a stack of documents to each other. But Jess isn't completely naive. She's seen the way they look at each other, the gleam of interest in their eyes when one of them makes a particularly good point or shrugs out of their blazer. There's something between the two of them, but Jess still isn't quite sure how she feels about it.

It's... interesting. It's certainly not the kind of relationship she imagined Nick would want. Not that she spends a lot of time thinking about that sort of thing. It's none of her business. If Nick wants to spend all of his time with his not-quite-girlfriend working himself down to the bone, well that's his decision. But as much as she tries to not care about the situation, she can't help but worry over Nick. She tries to ask him about it one morning over breakfast, and he just brushes her off without a second thought.

"We're not labeling it," he explains as he packs up his briefcase.

"I thought you didn't want a casual relationship." Jess frowns. "You said you didn't get the appeal of just casually dating someone."

"Yeah, well." Nick shuts his briefcase with a solid _click_. "Maybe I want something different now." He grabs a bagel and storms out the door, leaving Jess in the kitchen with a sinking feeling in her gut as she finishes packing up her lunch for school.

* * *

As much as her life back at the loft seems to be a mess lately, on the bright side, she can leave it behind every time she enters the door of her new school. Jess loves her new job. She _loves_ it. Her students are so lovely and motivated. It's probably the first time that she's ever had an entire classroom full of students who were so genuinely excited to learn. Abbi is in her morning session, and it's so great to see her bright and cheery now that things between her parents aren't so stressful. She's finished up her latest Pepperwood story and has started a new edition, this one with a spunky jewel thief named Jessica Night that Jess has a sneaking suspicion is based on her new English teacher.

And her fellow teachers are _so nice_. They all went out to dinner together to celebrate the first week of school, and Jess is pleasantly tipsy on pink wine as she rides the elevator up to their floor. She hums the _Welcome Back!_ song that she and Paul wrote together and digs through her purse for her keys as she steps into the hall, tripping a little bit over her own feet as she stumbles down the hallway. She rounds the corner and giggles before looking up and-

Oh.

Nick and Julia are making out in the hallway, completely oblivious to the fact that Jess is just a few feet away. Julia has him crowded up against the door to the loft, his hands gripping the sides of her hips as she kisses him, wet and messy. One of Nick's hands slides around to the small of Julia's back, pushing her up against him as he threads the other through her hair and tips his head to the side so he can kiss her even deeper.

Jess panics and ducks behind a fake plant before they can see her. But from the looks of things, Nick's tongue is too far down Julia's throat to notice that Jess is peering at them from between the plastic-y leaves. _What is she doing?_ Sneaking around and watching her roommate make out with his new girlfriend, like some kind of creepy stalker. She needs to get inside the loft, but they're blocking the only entrance. What she should do is go back downstairs and wait in the lobby for a few minutes until the two have broken off and the coast is clear. Which she's going to do. Any moment now.

"I have to go," Julia says, breaking off the kiss.

"Come inside," Nick groans, chasing after her lips.

"I have- The Ming- Conference call," she says in between kisses.

Nick groans and kisses her again. "Just come inside. We'll be so quick."

"Not sure if being quick is something to brag about, Miller," Julia gasps as Nick sucks at her neck.

Jess turns away. She can't watch this. Not when she knows what it feels like to have Nick's lips against her own and his hands roaming over her back. Not when she's twirly from one too many glasses of pink wine and hiding behind a fake plant instead of being assertive like an actual adult and just asking them to move over so she can let herself into her own home. But she's a pushover, so she stares down at her shoes, leaning her back against the wall of the tiny alcove and trying to tune them out despite her too-good peripheral vision.

It's weird, because a month ago she was the one in Julia's shoes. She was the one being kissed breathless by one Nick Miller. It seems like so long ago, but it's only been a month since he kissed her until she couldn't think of anything else and all those things that seemed so important faded into background noise, until all she could focus on was the glide of his lips over hers.

But that's not where they are right now. He's moved on. This is what she wanted. She didn't want him all hung up on her, hoping for something that was never going to happen. And yet, it still takes her by surprise. She's not sure why. Maybe it's because it all feels so sudden, like it's almost too soon for him to getting all hot and heavy with another woman. But then again, Nick doesn't owe Jess anything. They never dated or did anything that could be considered serious. He's a free man. She's not jealous. That much she knows for sure.

"Please, come inside," Nick mutters, his voice low and ragged.

"I can't," Julia says softly. She sounds all adult and sultry, like a Bond girl or a singer at some slinky old-school jazz club.

They both fall silent except for a few faint gasps and moans, presumably back to kissing. Jess crosses her arms over her chest and looks up at the ceiling, wondering if she should just go ahead and interrupt them. There's a loud ringing and Jess frantically looks down at her phone, terrified that her location has been given away by an ill-timed phone call. But her phone is thankfully still silent.

"Ignore it," Nick grumbles.

"It's Liz," Julia replies breathlessly and Nick groans. She clears her throat before answering the phone. "This is Cleary. Yeah. Yeah, I'm on my way now. Yep."

Jess peers around the corner, trying to formulate a plan where it's not obvious that she's been weirdly creeping on them this whole time.

"I've gotta go," Julia says and reaches her arms around Nick's neck to pull him into another kiss.

"I'll call you," Nick promises before kissing her one last time.

Julia turns to leave, fussing with her dress as she walks down the hall, too busy scrolling through her phone to spot where Jess is hiding. The elevator doors slide shut and Jess finally ducks out from behind the planter. Nick has already disappeared back into the loft, so she's able to get inside without any awkward interrogations. Jess slips into her room and tries to scrub the image of Nick and Julia out of her head. It's not any different than when they caught Schmidt and Cece on Valentine's Day. But seeing her two best friends together didn't leave this same sour taste in her mouth.

* * *

Now that it's apparent that Julia is around to stay, Jess has doubled down on her efforts to connect with Nick's new lawyer girlfriend. One night she manages to convince Julia to come out with the rest of the gang for drinks. It's weird, to see Nick with his arm slung around Julia's shoulders, to watch him lean in close to hear her over the loud noises of the crowd, to watch as the two of them flirt right across from where Jess is sitting. Nick barely pays any attention to Jess the whole night, too distracted by trying to impress Julia to really contribute to the group conversation. Schmidt keeps drifting off towards the bar to bother his own girlfriend, and Winston ducks out early to get some sleep before his early morning shift at the station.

Which leaves Jess, Nick, and Julia all at the corner booth, with Jess awkwardly digging her straw through her empty drink while Nick and Julia trade some weird flirty banter. She hates third-wheeling. At least with Winston and Schmidt at the table there was _someone_ for her to talk to. Right now, she might as well not even exist. She glances around the bar, trying to see if Cece's available up at the bar or if she's still swamped from earlier.

"Hey, Jess!"

Jess turns back to the table. "Yeah?"

"There you are. Thought you zoned out on us for a second," Nick teases her, his arm still wrapped around Julia's waist. "I'm gonna go get refills. Do you want anything?"

"Oh," she glances down at her empty glass. She probably shouldn't, but what's the harm? "Sure."

"One Nick Miller special, coming up," he says with a wink before sliding out of the booth, leaving Jess and Julia alone together.

Julia picks at the label of her beer bottle, awkwardly avoiding prolonged eye contact with Jess as they sit in silence, waiting for Nick to come back.

Jess clears her throat and forces a smile. "So how are things going with Nick?"

"Good," Julia says with a curt nod.

"That's nice."

Julia hums in agreement.

"You know," Jess says, twirling her straw between her fingers. "I actually have Nick's daughter, Abbi, in my English class."

"Oh."

"She's just the sweetest thing, isn't she?" Jess smiles.

"I don't really like kids." Julia clears her throat. "And I haven't met her so-"

"Oh, sorry." Jess recovers awkwardly. "Just, she's so important in Nick's life so I figured that you might have at least heard a little about her-"

"Look, I get it, okay?" Julia snaps.

Jess frowns, taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

"I see the whole thing you're doing," she says sharply. "I know that I'm the mean lawyer girl who wears suits and works too much, and you're the really fun teacher girl with all the colorful skirts and you bake things. And eventually, Nick is going to come running back to you, and you'll tuck him in under his blankie-"

"That's not what I'm doing," Jess cuts in.

"Well then you can stop whatever it is you _are_ doing. Because Nick and I are together, and I don't need you trying to sabotage us so that way you can swoop in after I'm gone."

"I'm not trying to sabotage you," Jess insists, clenching her jaw tight together. "I was the one who told Nick to ask you out. I'm just trying to be nice to you."

"I don't like you," Julia says, brutally honest in a way that hits Jess like a punch to the gut. "And I don't want to be your friend, so..."

Jess fights back the tears that are welling up in her eyes. She's not trying to be mean. She's _not_. She wants Nick and Julia to work out. But after watching the two of them she can't help but worry. She wants to give Julia the benefit of the doubt, but it's hard to do that when the other girl refuses to even let her try.

"Everything alright over here?" Nick asks as he comes back to the table, setting a drink down in front of Jess' empty glass.

"Fine," Jess says, digging through her purse for her phone. She bites down on her lip to hide the fact that she's barely a moment away from crying. "I'm gonna go up to the bar, actually."

Nick frowns at her. "Are you sure?"

"Uh huh!" she insists, overly cheery despite the way her voice wavers. Jess ignores Julia's pointed look as she scoops up her drink and hightails it over to the bar, surreptitiously wiping underneath her eye with her thumb and hoping her mascara isn't smearing.

Jess sets her purse down on the bar and slides onto the empty barstool beside Schmidt. "Hey, guys," she says casually, her voice breaking halfway through.

Cece sets down the glass she was drying. "What happened?"

"What?" Jess says, surprised that Cece managed to see right through her. "Nothing."

Schmidt looks her up and down. "You're crying."

"Who did this and where are they?" Cece snaps, tossing her rag on the counter and fumbling for the knife she was using to slice up limes just a few minutes ago. "Where are they right now?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." Jess rubs at the corner of her eye. "Really. She didn't do anything wrong, I overreacted."

"She? Who is she?" Cece narrows her eyes menacingly and glares around the bar.

"Is this about Julia?" Schmidt asks with a knowing look.

 _Damn_. _She needs less perceptive friends_. "Kinda."

Cece frowns, looking over Jess' shoulder to where Nick and Julia are pressed up against each other in the booth. "What did she do?"

Jess groans. She didn't want to start this. She didn't want a fight at all. But she's about to burst into tears and Cece looks like she might straight-up murder someone. "She snapped at me and said I needed to stop this whole thing and accused me of trying to get between her and Nick."

"She said you had _a whole thing_?" Schmidt asks, his brow furrowing.

"I'm gonna smack that lawyer-learnin' right out of her mouth," Cece says darkly, tightening her grip on the paring knife.

Schmidt reaches over to rest his hand on her free arm, trying to placate her. "Calm down, Mama Bear."

"It's just-" Jess huffs, glancing over at the two of them. "I don't get what he sees in her. Maybe it's just me, but she's so _mean_ , and she's always working. She doesn't like kids, and has never even heard of Nick's daughter. And she's not a dessert person! Like who in their right mind doesn't like dessert!"

"Jess," Cece's tone shifts into something more sympathetic. "You sure there isn't something else going on here?"

"What?" Jess protests. "No."

Schmidt raises a skeptical eyebrow. "I mean, Julia's been nothing but pleasant to me."

"Same here," Cece confirms.

Jess crosses her arms over her chest. "You're being ridiculous."

Cece shrugs. "I just think that maybe there's another reason why you and Julia don't get along. You and Nick do have a history together."

"We _don't_ have a history," Jess insists. "That's the thing. I mean, did I have feelings for him at one point? Sure. But that's over now. I'm single and I'm sufficient."

"If you're sure..." Cece says, seemingly unconvinced.

"Look, Jess." Schmidt looks at her, his face serious. "Nick went out on a limb to tell you how he felt, and you turned him down. And that was your decision to make, but it hurt him. _A lot_. Now he's moved on. You have to be okay with that. You can't just expect him not to date anyone else just because you told him you weren't interested."

"I'm not!" Jess protests. "But Julia-"

"Is who Nick chose," Schmidt interrupts. "It doesn't matter what you think of her."

"It's just-" She sighs. "He seems like he's slowly going back to the way he was when he first moved in. Working those insane hours, not spending as much time with Abbi. I can't remember the last time I saw him eat a vegetable." Jess stirs her drink contemplatively. "I don't want him to be miserable again."

Schmidt looks back towards the booth. Nick smiles and twines his fingers up with Julia's before reaching over her head to rest his arm on her shoulders. Julia laughs at his antics and lets Nick pull her close. "He doesn't look miserable to me."

Jess looks over at them wistfully. There's still that complicated knot of worry all twisted up in her chest. There's just something about Julia that makes Jess uneasy, like her hatred of desserts or the way she talked about Abbi, dismissing her even though she's the most important part of Nick's life. But it's nothing more than friendly concern, really.

She turns back to the bar and takes a long drink of her cocktail. She's just worried about Nick, is all. Her feelings for him are long gone. She's not jealous. That's not what this is about. She's moved on. And although she gave up on Zen Jess a while ago, she's still trying to focus on herself. She is single and she is sufficient. No more defining herself by the guy she is or isn't dating. Being in a couple is so overrated.

"Hey," Nick says, dropping off two empty glasses on the bar. "Julia and I are going to head back to her place."

"Woah-ho," Schmidt teases, slapping Nick on the shoulder. "Guess we'll see you in the morning."

"Shut up, man." Nick shoves him back, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Hey, I'm just proud of you, champ," Schmidt continues, ignoring Nick's threatening glare. "You know, it's been a while for you. Want me to stretch you out?"

"Don't be gross." Nick's turtleface deepens. "It's no big deal, really."

"What do you mean it's no big deal?" Jess chimes in, despite the warning look Schmidt gives her. "Have you been out with anyone since Caroline?"

"No," Nick admits, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Then, yeah, it's a big deal!" she insists. "Your first time in like 15 years with someone you don't already know. That's gotta be nerve-racking. Aren't you worried about it?"

"Jess..." Cece says warily, looking over at Schmidt with a pointed look.

Nick clenches his jaw slightly. "I hadn't really thought too much about it."

Jess takes another sip of her drink. "Well, I mean-"

"Nick, you're gonna be fine," Schmidt cuts her off. "Don't worry about it. Just, you know, suck in the gut."

He glances down to his midsection. "What gut?"

"Don't listen to him," Cece adds.

Jess shrugs and gestures to his stomach. "The little pooch where you keep your extra cookies."

"Nick? You ready?" Julia interrupts, leaning into their little circle.

Nick turns towards her, a little caught off guard. Then he gives his head a shake. "Yeah," he says, pulling his wallet out and dropping a few bills onto the bar, despite Cece waving him off. "Let's go."

Jess watches them walk away, and that tangling knot in her stomach tightens.

* * *

Nick comes home the next morning looking tired, his shirt a little rumpled and hair messy. It's not surprising, but seeing him walking into the kitchen with a yawn makes the reality sink in. He's moved on. Jess thinks about Schmidt's words from last night, how he'd accused her of not letting Nick go. But it's all ridiculous. She sits at the dining room table and sips at her tea as Nick pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Hi, Nick," she says. He nods at her, barely acknowledging her greeting as he puts the coffee pot back into the machine. "So I guess your date went well. Sleepover party," she jokes, trying to ease the weird tension in the room.

He doesn't say anything back to her, just runs a hand through his hair and takes a long drink of his coffee.

"Look, about what I said last night. I'm sorry." She fiddles with the string of her tea bag. "I was just trying to be cool, and I'm sorry if I overstepped or something."

Nick glares at her. The silence in the loft is deafening.

"Can we just talk about this?" Jess asks. There's been a guilty feeling gnawing at the pit of her gut, and it won't go away until she can fix whatever she messed up between them. "Because I know you're probably upset with me but-"

"You wanna know why I'm upset with you, Jess?" Nick asks with a tense edge to his tone, the words sharp as he sets his mug down onto the island with a slight rattle and steps around the corner. "You ruined my date last night."

Jess frowns. It had looked like things were going perfectly fine. "I'm sorry?" she repeats, unsure.

"No, you're not. Because you're the one who got caught up inside my head last night. You're the reason why I couldn't have meaningless sex with a beautiful woman who, for some unknown reason, is actually attracted to me. But I couldn't, because I couldn't stop thinking about how I have no idea what I'm doing in bed anymore."

"That's not what I meant-"

"Isn't it?" Nick bites back. "Because it sure sounded like it back at the bar."

"Why does it have to be _my_ fault?" Jess counters. She slides out of her seat and defiantly stands up, crossing her arms over her chest. "Because I'm not the one sleeping with her."

"Neither am I!" he yells defensively. "Thanks to you."

She frowns. "Maybe you don't want meaningless sex."

"I'm a _man_ , Jessica," Nick yells. "I was made to have meaningless sex."

"Yeah, right." Jess rolls her eyes. "That's not your style, Miller."

Nick lets out an unimpressed huff. "Oh, so suddenly you're the one who knows everything about what's best for me?"

"I never said that," she retorts. "I just think that maybe you aren't ready to move on quite yet."

"Move on?" Nick says in disbelief. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a groan of frustration. "Jess, you have all been telling me to move on from Caroline since _January_. Now suddenly I'm not ready anymore?"

"It's not about Caroline-" Jess counters before she has a chance to realize what she's said.

"Then it's you." Nick's eyes widen in realization.

"What? That's not what- I-" Jess fumbles. "You're twisting my words."

"Just admit it, Jess," he yells, and Jess wants to smack that smug, knowing look right off of his face.

"There's nothing to admit," she yells back. "You're delusional."

"Oh, _I'm_ the one in denial?"

"Shut up."

"You don't have to pretend, Jess. I know the little game you're playing."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you want me to move on from you: yes or no?"

"No!" she yells, and the admission echoes in the empty space of the loft. Nick's face lights up, a smile of genuine disbelief spreading over his face. She tries backtracking. "Yes! No. I mean, I did. But that was before _Julia_."

"Fine," Nick says, raising his hands in surrender. "Forget Julia."

"It's just-" Jess huffs. "I just, I didn't think I would have to _see_ it all the time. And that she would be around the loft and hanging off your arm when we were out at the bar and-"

Nick's smile falters. "Wait a second..."

"What?"

"You're jealous."

"No!" Jess scoffs.

"Yes, you are." Nick laughs, a sarcastic little chuckle. "You're fucking jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" she insists and takes a step towards him, setting her hands on her hips and jutting her chin out defiantly.

"Yeah?" he counters, closing the gap between them so they're nearly toe-to-toe. Jess has to tip her head back to meet his eyes, and her breath gets caught up in her throat when she suddenly realizes just how close they've gotten. "Then prove it," Nick whispers.

It doesn't make any sense, but his breath is warm against her lips and his mouth is slightly parted and Jess' blood is boiling from the energy of their screaming match. She pushes up onto her toes and tentatively sets her hand on his shoulder to hold her steady as she presses her lips against his. Nick's arm wraps around her waist, pulling her into him as he kisses her back, his mouth open and pliant against hers.

The kiss is almost angry, riding on the high-strung tension of their argument. Jess' eyes flutter shut as she succumbs to the push and pull of Nick's lips as his hands roam over her. She throws one of her arms over his shoulder and Nick's hand comes up to hold her head in place as he slides his tongue into her mouth.

She's almost too distracted by the feeling of him kissing her to realize that Nick's backed them up against the kitchen table, and she lets out a gasp when he scoops her up underneath her thighs and drops her onto the flat surface. It sends one of his stacks of files tumbling off the edge of the table, the contents spilling out onto the floor.

"You're a mess!" she yells, her chest heaving from the kiss. He's pressed right up between her legs, and she can feel his dick pressing up against her, and it makes her feel dizzy with want as she pulls him closer and kisses him even deeper.

"You're so annoying with your little skirts!" Nick counters, his hands roaming high up her thighs, and she can feel the warmth of his palms through the thin fabric of her tights.

Jess fists her hands in the fabric of his shirt and yanks him into another kiss. Their teeth knock together and she pulls away to yell at him again. "Why are you so angry all the time?

"I told you, shut up," he groans and takes a half step away from her, trying to clear off some of the table. "Shut up and take off your clothes right now. And I mean it, take off your clothes."

His words send a shiver down through her, the anger and want coursing through her in a weird combination that's making her head dizzy and her panties damp. Everything about him is intoxicating, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his rough hands, the smell of booze and cologne that makes her want to bury her face in his shoulder while he fucks her right there on the kitchen table.

Nick is frantically tossing papers out of the way, and Jess rips at the buttons of her top as she yells, "You're just chaotic! Everywhere you go!"

"Stop talking!" Nick yells back, stepping back between her legs and pulling her right up to the edge of the table top so he can kiss her, hot and wet as his mouth slides up against hers. Jess throws her arms around his neck and arches into him, her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

A million miles away there's a loud ringing noise, and Nick groans against her lips.

"Turn it off," she gasps as he presses a messy trail of kisses down the slope of her neck.

"It's mine," he mumbles against her skin. He bites down on her neck and Jess' hands fly up to his hair as he sucks a bruise into her neck.

The phone rings again, loud and insistent. Nick groans and pulls away from her. He digs his phone out of his pocket and checks the number. "Shit. _Shit._ "

"What?" Jess sits up and tries to peer over his shoulder.

"Shit," he mutters to himself, looking around at the destruction they've left in their wake. "Great. All this that I gotta clean up and I'm fucking late for work."

Jess frowns and hops off the table, her knees only slightly wobbly as she storms off to her room. "Great. Another thing you can blame on me."

"Great!" He yells, following close behind her.

"Great!" Jess spits out and turns sharp on her heel before storming into her room and slamming the door shut with a loud _thud._

She leans back against the closed door. _Fucking Nick Miller._ She's breathing hard, and her lips are kiss swollen and she's so desperately needy that it's almost pathetic. On a whim, she throws open the door, only to realize that Nick's done the same. He stares at her for a moment, his eyes dark and chest heaving.

Jess isn't quite sure who makes the first move, but one moment they're standing in their open doorways and the next they're kissing in the middle of the hallway. Nick's arms are around her and pulling her up against him, his knees slightly bent to press the whole of his body into hers. They kiss until they're out of air, only finally breaking off apart when they absolutely have to.

"This is a bad idea!" he yells, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"You piss me off!" she yells back.

They're still angry yelling at each other, but it's mainly just sexual frustration at this point. Neither of them want their first time to be a desperate quickie before either of them rushes off to work. The rest of their lives are still in the way, but now there's a different charge between them. The adrenaline of anger is easier to deal with temporarily, putting the physical boundaries of their bedroom doors between them, when the metaphorical ones are no longer there. Jess can feel the pulse of that waiting time between them, finally on the same page. It feels almost impossible to deny it any longer, now that everything's out in the open.

But things are complicated between them. This isn't some hot guy she met at the bar, or the cute music teacher at her new school. This is _Nick_. And if she's not careful, if they _both_ aren't careful, then they're going to ruin this before it even begins. So as much as she wants to run across the hallway and throw herself back into his arms, she doesn't. But it's going to happen, that much she knows for sure. It's just a matter of time. She just hopes that she can delay the inevitable long enough to figure out her own feelings first.


	30. Things are different now

Nick breaks up with Julia. It makes sense, because it would be kind of hard for him to justify staying with his 'label-free' girlfriend after he and Jess made out and almost had sex on their dining room table. She still can't quite believe that happened. That's not something she does. She's not the kind of girl who goes around seducing men with perfectly nice girlfriends and does crazy things like have sex in the middle of the dining room at 7am, like she just can't help herself. Love is a hell of a drug.

There's no use trying to deny the facts any longer. She's attracted to Nick. They've kissed several times and he has feelings for her, the extent of which are still debatable. There's still a lingering fear that what he feels towards her isn't real, that he's still just emotionally mixed up from all the turmoil he went through when he was fighting with Caroline, and Jess is the object of all his misplaced affection. But she's not quite sure if that's still the case here, or if she's been hiding behind that excuse as a way to avoid thinking about how he cares about her in a way that's so intense she almost can't comprehend it. It's an intoxicating, terrifying thing to live up to, to be a person who deserves the depths of those feelings.

She wants him. She wants him _bad._ The sexual tension between them has climbed off the charts, changing the mood of any room when they're together, a heavy fog that clouds the air and makes her struggle to breathe, making her head dizzy and raising goosebumps that prickle up along her skin.

And it's not like she's doing anything particularly saucy or salacious. One morning she tries to pour herself a bowl of cereal, as innocent and nonsensual of an act as you can get. Jess reaches up on her tiptoes to grab the box out of the cabinet, but when she turns around Nick is right behind her getting a mug off the shelf above the coffee pot. She doesn't catch herself in time and stumbles right into his arms, like the klutzy heroine in some kind of cliché romance movie.

"Oh," she gasps, all the air suddenly pressed out of her lungs.

Nick stares down at her, eyes dark. "Um..."

"I..." Jess' gaze flicks down to his lips, ever so slightly parted and incredibly tempting. The box of cereal hits the ground with a soft thud, spilling out on the kitchen floor.

"You dropped your Fruit Loops," Nick says, barely above a whisper.

"Shut up," she breathes, drifting towards him, unable to fight off that magnetic force that seems to always draw them together.

The door to Schmidt's room opens with a soft creak, and Jess jumps away from Nick, shaking off the sudden bout of temporary insanity. He stares longingly at her as she takes another few steps back, and there's an ache deep in her chest that makes her wish she had just given into the impulse and pulled him into her and kissed him.

"I hope you're planning to clean this mess up, Jessica," Schmidt complains, kicking at a few of the spilled pieces of cereal.

"Yeah," Jess agrees, her voice rough around the edges like she had been screaming, her throat dry. Schmidt eyes her suspiciously and she hopes her face isn't as red as she feels, burning up from within. She slowly backs out of the kitchen, keeping her eyes on Nick, who is still standing there, dumbstruck, and she can't help but wonder if he regrets not kissing her.

Or there's the time they were all sitting on the couch, Nick in his usual corner spot, Jess and Winston to his right and Schmidt on his left. It was no big deal, just an ordinary evening in the loft as they watch some movie on TV. She's hanging out with the guys and trying to pay attention to the movie, but she's distracted by the heat of Nick so close to her, and ends up missing half of it.

Eventually Winston leaves for his night shift, and Schmidt heads off to the bathroom to perform his elaborate nighttime skincare routine, and then it's just Nick and Jess on the couch, all alone. They're sitting close to each other, so close that her entire side is pressed right up against him, and while she didn't even think twice about squeezing in between him and Winston earlier, now she's painfully aware of how they're connected all the way from shoulder to hip, the bare skin of her arm brushing up against his in a way that sets off sparks all the way down to her fingertips. There's that tense energy in the air again, like the seconds before a thunderstorm, warm and heavy and crackling with energy.

It would be so easy to swing her leg over and settle onto his lap. To feel his hands on her waist, holding her steady as she kisses him. To grind her hips down and feel his dick pressing insistently against her ass, hot and hard like the other night when he had nearly taken her right there on the kitchen table, the place where she sat and ate dinner not even 12 hours later.

Or maybe he would be the one to make the first move. Maybe he would thread his hand through her hair and kiss her again, slow and deep, nudging her back against the couch. He would settle his weight on top of her, pressing her into the cushions as he licked into her mouth, opening up her lips underneath his as he slowly undid the buttons of her pajama top and-

Nick clears his throat and Jess breaks out of her daydream. She turns to look at Nick, her cheeks burning and heart pounding. He stares right back at her, his eyes deadly serious. There's a ringing in her ears, and she desperately wants to know if he was thinking about her the same way she can't stop thinking about him. There's a moment where they just look at each other, the kisses they don't speak about looming over them like a dam about to burst open.

But just as Nick starts to open his mouth, she chickens out. "I have to go to bed," she says, pushing herself up off the couch, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

He doesn't say anything, just stares up at her with his hands resting on his knees and balled up into fists, like he has to hold himself back from reaching out for her.

Jess escapes to her room, breathless and twirly, her head spinning with the dizzy realization of just how much she _wants_ him.

And that's not even the worst of it. There's the Pledge of Allegiance incident, where one moment she and Nick are just talking, making fun of Winston and Schmidt for not buying a new cell phone charger, and then the next thing she knows his hand is on her chest, fondling her upper boob, because apparently that's something that they do nowadays.

"Your hand's on my boob," she observes, because her brain is still trying to catch up to just exactly what's happening, and if this is really a _thing_ that's happening, and if this is going to be another one of those times where nothing actually _happens_ and they go on about their business afterwards, not talking about it outside of that one specific moment and letting the sexual tension continue to simmer below the surface.

"Yeah," he agrees with a grimace, but he doesn't do anything to move his hand. "And it's weird. Maybe it's less weird because I know that it's weird, and I'm calling it out."

Jess frowns at him. "Doesn't make it less weird."

"Right on." Nick nods. His hand is still on her chest, the palm wrapping around the outer curve of her breast and his fingers caressing the upper slope. It's just kind of, there, and she wishes he would move it, either to push aside her bra and fondle her breast with purpose or to take his hand off before this spirals out of control. She's not sure what she wants more.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asks in a jokey tone, but her voice comes out a little strained and nervous. "What's going on here? What are we?"

"We, us? What are we doing?" he reiterates with the same teasing attitude, gesturing between the two of them with the hand that isn't on her breast. "We are roommates who have made out a couple of times... and are attracted to each other." Jess nods in agreement. "And we're also really good friends who sometimes genuinely kind of hate each other."

That's the kicker. They're friends, and that complicates things. The last thing she wants is to blindly jump into this and screw it all up. He's too important to her.

"And sometimes..." he continues, his face scrunched up with so much uncertainty that it's almost like he's in pain. "We touch each other's boobs."

Jess frowns at him, unsure. The moment between them has gone stale, the chemistry fading back to a distant throb that she can manage to block out. Nick looks at her contemplatively before raising his second hand to join the first, arms completely outstretched as he rests his hands over top of her sweater. It shouldn't be hot. It should be weird and awkward and uncomfortable and enough to make her run screaming for the hills. But instead she's struggling to catch her breath, her mouth falling open as she drifts ever so slightly towards him, willing him to pull her a little closer, to slip his hands beneath her top and let his warm, broad hands dance over her bare skin.

But he hesitates just a second too long. There's a loud crash in the bathroom and Nick drops his arms just as a sopping wet Winston stumbles out of the hallway, effectively sucking all the sexual tension out of the room. When Jess turns back to look at Nick he's closed off from her again, arms crossed over his chest defensively despite the longing in his eyes. She tries to bring it up with him that night, but he just ducks her vaguely worded questions and she's too much of a chicken to actually push him for an answer.

It's driving her crazy. All the yarn in the world couldn't help her blow off all the excessive sexual energy she has lately, not that she isn't trying her damn best. There's no way she can keep this up. She needs help, or else she just might combust in the aftermath of the next almost-but-not-quite interaction with Nick. Luckily for her there's two certified Nick Miller experts living right under her nose.

She corners Schmidt and Winston one afternoon before Nick gets back from work. There's a tray of freshly baked brownies on the coffee table and Winston immediately gravitates to the couch the moment Jess sets it down. Schmidt walks in the front door a few minutes later, right on schedule.

"Hey, Schmidt!" she calls out and waves him towards the couch. "I need your advice on something."

"Thank god, _finally._ " Schmidt groans, tossing his messenger bad to the side and sitting down in the empty armchair. "I've been waiting for you to ask me for _months_. We're gonna have to burn all of your wardrobe, starting with that sweater."

Jess scoffs and looks down at the purple patten. "Excuse you, I made this."

"Exactly," Schmidt says with a knowing look.

"What did you actually want our help with?" Winston asks, leaning in to grab a brownie off the platter.

"It's... about Nick."

Winston freezes. His hand hovers over the plate as he narrows his eyes at her. "What about Nick?"

She places her hand over her chest, the same way Nick had just the other night. "Would you describe this as a sexual act?"

"I would describe that as the Pledge of Allegiance," Schmidt explains, a hint of condescension to his tone. "Which can be sexual. Why?"

Jess huffs. "Because this is what I got from Nick. Just out of the blue. No reason."

"Okay." Winston tentatively picks up two of the brownies and settles back into his seat before stuffing half of one into his mouth. "So?"

"So... What does that mean?"

"It means my boy Nick got a handful," Schmidt says proudly.

"That's weird," Winston says, chewing on his brownie thoughtfully. "'cause at the station we call that sexual harassment."

"Guys, c'mon," Jess whines. She can't let them derail this. "I'm serious."

Schmidt shrugs. "Look, Jess. It's no big deal."

"Mhm," Winston agrees, his mouth full.

"But it is a big deal." Jess sighs. "I mean, sure, maybe if it was just a one-time thing. But it keeps happening. And I don't know what to do about it."

"Do you want me to talk to Nick?" Winston frowns, his face serious. "If he's making you uncomfortable-"

"No! It's not..." she trails off. That's the thing. She doesn't know what she wants from all this, if she wants him to stop or to keep going. "Our relationship is so confusing." Jess groans and presses her face into her hands.

"What happened?" Schmidt asks with a frown.

"Well..." Jess takes a deep breath. She might as well put it all out on the table. There's no reason to hide it anymore. Besides, she has a suspicion that they already know. "I thought it was just one kiss, but now I can't get him out of my head and I just don't know what to do. I thought that we could go back to the way things were, but we can't. Things have changed."

"They don't have to have changed," Winston says.

Jess frowns. "It's just different-"

"You can just pretend it didn't happen," Schmidt adds.

"I tried that!" she says in frustration. "And I just ended up kissing him again."

Winston raises an eyebrow and asks sternly, " _You_ kissed _him?_ "

"It's not like- I wasn't trying-" Jess huffs. _Why is this so difficult?_ "I just couldn't help it. Seeing him with Julia, she was just so _wrong_ for him."

"And _you're_ right?" Schmidt asks skeptically.

"That's not what I said."

"That's what it sounds like." Winston cuts in. "Jess, we're not trying to be mean. But things with you and Nick are complicated. He's still trying to figure out who he is after Caroline. He's emotionally vulnerable. Maybe it's less of an attraction and more of a proximity thing."

"Yeah," Schmidt agrees. "And Jess, sweetheart. You wear a cardigan on top of another cardigan. We all know you're not the best with doorknobs. You can barely hold one thing in each hand. You tripped the other day just standing there."

Jess frowns at him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Schmidt frowns sympathetically. "You're the kind of person who gets led into these kinds of things. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know. I know it's complicated, and messy, and a horrible idea." Jess lets out a long exhale. She knows all of this, but knowing it doesn't do anything to change the complicated tangle in her chest, the knot in her heartstrings she can't unravel no matter how many times Nick tugs at it. "And I've tried to give it up. Really. That's what I tried with Sam, and then the teaching retreat. But-"

Schmidt looks at her expectantly. "But?"

"I think I might have feelings for Nick."

Winston leans in towards her, his arms crossed over his chest. "You _think_ you do, or you _do_."

"I... I don't know."

He sits back into the couch, unimpressed. "So then you should figure it out before you hurt him."

"The last thing I want to do is hurt him," she insists. That much she knows for sure. "But... I look at him and my heart explodes."

Schmidt looks over at Winston, eyebrows raised. They exchange a complicated series of looks, somehow managing to have a conversation with just their eyes. After a few moments Winston lets out a long sigh and shrugs, shaking his head slightly.

"I think you should talk to Nick," Schmidt says hesitantly. "And tell him some of what you just told us."

"You think so?" she asks. "Nick's my friend. I can't lose him."

Winston glances over to Schmidt before turning back to look at her. "I think it's important that you talk to him."

Jess frowns at each of them. "You guys are being really vague."

Schmidt shrugs.

"I'm just... I'm afraid I'm going to mess it up."

"Well... If you _really_ think that you have feelings for him. " Winston says hesitantly before leaning in towards her. "There's a good chance he's on the same page."

"Really?" she asks.

Winston nods. "Just be careful. Clear your head and be sure of what you want."

"You don't want to hurt yourself again," Schmidt adds seriously. "We care about you. And if Nick makes you happy, then you should go for it. Because we want both of you to be happy."

"Thanks, guys." Jess smiles and rubs at the corner of her eye. "This means a lot."

"Come here," Winston says, standing up and holding out his arms. Jess sniffles as she rises up off the couch and steps into his embrace. "It's gonna work out," he says, resting his chin on the top of his head and his hand on her back.

Schmidt joins in on the hug, wrapping his arms around both of them. "Go get 'em tiger."

Jess laughs, and that bubbly feeling in her chest suddenly makes sense. She can do this. She'll just talk to Nick, and they'll figure this whole mess out together.

* * *

The opportunity arises later that night. She's in the bathroom brushing her teeth when Nick walks in. He's already in his pajamas, gray sweatpants and a t-shirt that's worn with age, and he looks soft and tired in a way that makes her chest feel all gooey inside. He nods at her as he steps up to the mirror and plucks his toothbrush out of the cup beside it. She watches as he turns the faucet on and runs his toothbrush under the water, not looking for anything in particular, just casually noticing him. There's a certain way that he does things, a sort of Nick Miller charm that bleeds into everything he does. Jess finds it weirdly captivating, even the mundane scrunch of his nose as he brushes his teeth and the way he taps his sock-clad feet on the tile floor to some rhythm only he can hear.

Nick catches her staring at him and smiles around his toothbrush, his mouth full of foam. Jess panics and gives him a thumbs up with her free hand. He shrugs at her, his dark eyes sparkling in amusement, and the gesture makes Jess' heart skip a beat. Jess can hear the little Schmidt and Winston voices echoing in the back of her head. _Just tell him how you feel_.

 _Okay. You got this._ Jess leans over the sink to rinse out her mouth and then looks over at Nick. "I like how things aren't weird between us."

He nods, still scrubbing his teeth.

"Because if somebody walked in here and saw us, they'd be, like, ' _Look at those two totally normal roommates. I bet they never sucked face.'_ But we did. You sucked my face."

"Right," Nick agrees, and a few flecks of toothpaste fly out of his mouth. He turns away to swish some water around in his mouth before spitting into the sink. "Sorry if I got something on you there," he says apologetically once his mouth is clean. "It was accidental."

"Yeah, I mean, which is cool," she says dismissively.

"Who cares?" Nick shrugs awkwardly. "We're just cool. 'Cause that's the thing, we're just roommates. No big deal!"

"Right," she agrees. _Wait, no_. _Don't just let it go. Just talk to him_. _Tell him how you feel._ "You know what? Let's reward ourselves, because we're doing so well. Table for two, fanciest restaurant in town!"

"Yeah, and then we could have sex," Nick says jokingly.

Jess freezes up and looks at him in surprise. _Does he... is that where this is going?_ That's where she wants this to go, or at least where she thinks she wants this to go. But hearing it out loud, and from _him_...

"Just joking," he says quickly, trying to recover. "I was just joke... I was just joking."

She blinks and gives her head a little shake. "Yeah, no, I know it was a joke."

"Right, right." Nick clears his throat.

"I'm just gonna..." She points her thumb over her shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Nick stares down at his feet, pointedly avoiding making eye contact as Jess slowly backs out of the room.

 _You coward_ , she thinks to herself as she walks down the hallway, running away from her problems instead of just facing them head-on. _You're never going to do anything about this, are you? You're just going to keep on running, and one day Nick is going to get tired of chasing you._

Jess sighs. They just need _something_. Some kind of catalyst to break the cycle of them building things up only to abandon them right as something is about to happen. Or...maybe Schmidt and Winston have a point. Maybe this is too complicated. And as much as she cares about Nick, she doesn't really understand what that means to her, what that means for both of them. And Nick told her how he feels, but it's been a month, and things could have changed a hundred different ways since then, and they haven't.

The truth is, she's afraid. She's terrified to jump into something this big without knowing what will happen. She went out on a limb with Spencer. He was cute and had great hair and when he asked her to move in Jess had said yes without a second thought, even though they'd only been together for three months. And then she had been too scared of being alone to break things off with him. She had happily ignored all the red flags until she caught him with another girl, and even then she almost forgave him. Jess wouldn't call herself _gullible_ , but she prefers to give people the benefit of the doubt, which means that she has the unfortunate tendency to let people take advantage of her capacity for forgiveness and walk all over her.

Spencer did just that. He hurt her. And Jess has worked so hard to piece herself back together again, to build up her self-worth around her own strengths and skills instead of molding herself around another person. But now that her heart is whole again she's afraid to give it out to just anyone. There's that little spark of hope that Nick isn't just _anyone_ , that she can trust him in a way she doesn't really trust anyone else, except maybe Cece. But there's another voice in the back of her head warning her not to be so naive, that makes her wonder just what is so special about Nick that makes him different from all the other people who've come before him.

She wants to trust him. She really does. But the last time she opened herself up to love she only ended up getting spurned. And with Nick still reeling from Caroline, she's afraid they'll just end up hurting each other. So as much as it hurts, maybe it's best for the both of them to just move on. They'll put this whole mess behind them and be friends. That's what she really wants, for Nick to be a part of her life. Besides, there's no way he's going to make the first move. As long as she sits around, not doing anything, they'll just be stuck here: more than friends but not quite together.

It's not a bad outcome, all things considered. They gave things a try and they didn't work out. They didn't end up knowing each other enough to hate each other. Isn't the best part of falling in love the 'before' part anyway? It's the part where you can imagine every good future together and never have to face the reality that exactly none of them can come true.

* * *

"Hey, Jess!" Nick yells, jogging up to her.

Jess turns away from the hot dog stand. "Hey!"

"What are you doing over there by the hot dogs?" he asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

She looks around, but there aren't any other restaurants on the block. "What do you mean? I thought we were meeting for dinner. You texted me the address."

Nick had asked her that morning if she wanted to grab dinner after work. Well, he'd stammered something along the lines of "Food?" and she'd guessed the rest and then happily agreed. They don't get to spend a lot of time together now that she's back to teaching, and she can't remember the last time they hung out somewhere that wasn't the loft.

"What? No. I got a reservation," he explains, gesturing to the place across the street.

It's a nice restaurant. _Really_ nice. The kind of place with extremely well-dressed couples milling about outside while they wait for the needlessly expensive valet. Jess glances down at her outfit. It was casual Friday at Willow, and they were allowed to wear jeans in exchange for a $5 donation to a monthly charity. She looks back up at Nick, who's still all dressed up in his work suit.

He grins at her and offers up his arm. "Well? Come on. Let's get some dinner."

Jess follows him into the restaurant, feeling incredibly disoriented by the whole situation. They get their table and Nick pulls out Jess' seat for her before tipping the waiter who comes around to bring them champagne. She glances around the restaurant, taking in the gentle ambiance of what's likely the nicest restaurant she's ever been in, from the live piano player to the gentle laughs of the couples around them. Jess looks back at Nick, who's giving her his most charming smile, his eyes gleaming in the low light of the restaurant.

"Hey, Nick," she says, feeling more than a little unsure. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What's on your mind?" he asks, smooth and confident.

"Is this a date?"

"What do you mean, is this a date?" he repeats, a nervous edge to his voice.

"I'm just..." she takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. "I'm asking you if this is a date. It seems like a date."

"You've been thinking it's a date this whole time?" Nick says with a nervous laugh as he sips at his champagne.

Jess frowns. "I'm just asking you."

"How embarrassing for you," he says dismissively, and Jess can see the beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. "No, for me, it's just hanging out in a nice restaurant, getting champagne with my friend." He clears his throat before picking up his menu to avoid meeting her gaze.

She wants to scream, because this could be the moment she's been waiting for, the chance to actually talk to Nick and tell him how she feels. But she can't do that if he refuses to acknowledge what's been going on between them. "You know, if this _were_ a date..."

"It's _not_ ," Nick insists, glancing over her shoulder before shielding his face. "And it's a good thing it's not a date, because my ex-wife just walked in the door."

Jess casually looks over towards the entrance where Caroline is chatting with another woman as they wait in line for the hostess. She turns back to Nick, who is now sweating even more. Even if he insists this isn't a date, it's still pretty incriminating for the two of them to be alone together at a nice restaurant on a Friday night. "But, I mean, this isn't a date, right?"

"Right," Nick says quickly before downing the remaining champagne in his glass.

She doesn't want to give up on this moment, the one time since the dining room kiss where Nick actually made a move to progress their relationship instead of just backing off when things got too intense. She's dying to tell him that she _wants_ this to be a date, that she's been wanting to ask him out for weeks now but has just been too anxious to actually do it. She wants to flirt with him over dinner and jokingly ask him to come back to her place over dessert. She wants him to kiss her again when they're back in the loft, his hands hesitantly hovering over her waist before drawing her in close to him as his open mouth glides over hers. She wants to tell him that she has feelings for him, even though she's not sure what that means yet.

But their relationship is messy and complicated. They can't even go to dinner without Caroline showing up to make things awkward. It almost feels like fate is trying to send them a sign that this isn't meant to be.

"Then maybe we should just go to the bar next door and have a drink as friends?" Jess offers, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Drinking to forget? That's my sweet spot," Nick jokes, a wave of relief washing over his features. "Let's do that."

They get out to Nick's car, and he ditches his coat and tie in the backseat before unbuttoning the top buttons of his dress shirt and rolling up the sleeves. "You ready to drink with a friend?" he asks, jerking his thumb over to the dive bar just down the street.

"Yes. Let's do this," she says as she leads the way down the street.

A few drinks is all it takes to get them back to normal. They sit close together on the corner of the bar top, the tip of Jess' boot occasionally knocking against Nick's shin. Jess leans on the bar a little too much and Nick grins easily at her as he teases her about how quickly she gave up on _Zen Jess_.

"I mean, you couldn't hold out for another two days?" he complains. "I lost the betting pool to Schmidt, and now he won't let me hear the end of it."

Jess giggles around the straw of her drink. "Sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it." He smiles and takes a sip of beer. "I like you when you're just being yourself."

Jess' heart flutters at his words, even though she's sure he doesn't mean them the way she wants him to. "Yeah, well, same to you, Miller."

"So you _do_ wanna go on a date with me," he jokes, a flicker of something close to hope in his eyes.

"I mean, sure, I've thought about it once or twice," Jess admits. She glances down at her lap and brushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Oh really?" Nick says, his eyebrows raised in surprise and interest. "And when was this?"

"Like you don't know," Jess says with a huff. "You're the one who goes around randomly grabbing my upper boob or acting like you're going to kiss me."

"Randomly?" he scoffs. "Oh, no way. You put it out there, Jess."

"What?" she protests. "I do not."

"You totally do."

"I do not put it out there."

" _Hey, Nick, will you help me open this jar?_ " he says in a high-pitched tone that's supposed to be mimicking her. " _How do you restart the internet?"_

"That's just me suffering through life." Jess blushes and stirs the straw around in her drink.

"You have to stop, because it's ridiculously hot," he says with a chuckle, his eyes a little dark as he stares at her. "It's hard for me to deal with, because it's too hot."

Jess' heart skips a beat at his admission. He lifts his glass up to take another drink of his beer, and Jess watches the bob of his throat as he swallows and the way his tongue absentmindedly darts out to lick his lips as he sets the beer back down on the bar.

"Well then you have to stop wearing those dress shirts all the time," she counters, nodding her head at what he's currently wearing.

Nick looks down at his shirt with a frown. "What's wrong with this? I wear this to work."

"Yeah, but not like _that_." Jess points to the exposed bit of chest. "With the buttons all undone and sleeves rolled up."

"Oh, really? That's a turn on?" he asks with a laugh, like he doesn't quite believe her.

"It's hot." Jess bites down on her lower lip and leans forward a little on her barstool. She can feel her last drink starting to hit her, the liquid confidence making her throw caution to the wind. "Hey. Do you want to get some dinner?"

"Like a..." Nick's smile falters slightly as he rubs his hands together. "Like a date?"

Jess nods, feeling a potentially dangerous mix of twirly, daring, and drunk.

Nick's eyes widen slightly, and he starts to slide off his seat. "Yeah. Yeah, let's..." He gestures in the general direction of the exit.

She giggles and hops off her seat as Nick dumps a handful of cash on the bar. Her legs are slightly unsteady as she follows him down the street, her fingers interlaced with his. They stop by his car outside of the restaurant and Nick reluctantly lets go of her hand to shrug on his jacket and re-do his tie. Nick argues with the host for five minutes over whether or not their reservation is still valid even though they left the restaurant, and eventually they give in to Nick's drunken insistence and surprisingly persuasive argument.

"I don't wanna be too forward, but..." Jess runs her finger over the menu, trying not to slosh her new cocktail onto the white tablecloth. "Whatever baby wants, baby gets. Momma's buying," she says with a saucy wink.

Nick laughs. "Well, look, you keep buying my drinks, I'll put out no matter what you say."

Jess knows he's joking, but the words send a thrill though her all the same. This is happening. They're finally doing this. Nick's coming home with her tonight, and they're going to put an end to this endless game of flirtation and building sexual tension without reward.

"How many have we had?" she asks, half joking and half actually unsure.

"Nick?" a familiar voice says, and they both look up to see Caroline standing beside their table. "I thought I saw you here earlier."

"Caroline!" Nick says in mock surprise. "Wow, fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah, it's good to see you," she says with a slightly-forced smile that fades a second later. "And you're here with Jess."

Jess brightly smiles at her. "Hey, Caroline."

She hums before turning back to Nick. "So are you two..."

"Oh, we're not like..." Nick says quickly and then glances over at Jess, a look of panic and confusion on his face.

"This is a date... sorta?" Jess frowns. "Like it was, but then it wasn't. Now it is."

"But it's not like we're together or anything." Nick looks back at Caroline with a slight grimace. "But like we're not not-"

"We're roommates and friends and maybe..." Jess trails off, not quite sure what comes next in that sentence. She looks to Nick to finish the thought, but his gaze is trained down at his place setting.

Caroline glances between the two of them, unimpressed. "Right. Well, I'm going to get back to my table. Good to see you, Nick."

Jess watches Caroline go with a sour taste in her mouth. This is exactly why they shouldn't be doing this. They don't know what they are to each other, what this relationship is or where it's going. Things are complicated and terrifying and Jess doesn't have the slightest idea how to formulate the feelings in her chest into something that makes even the slightest amount of sense. She sighs and looks back over at Nick. He's frowning down at his nearly empty glass, nearly at full Miller turtleface.

"You know, maybe this isn't the best idea," she says quietly.

Nick's frown deepens. "Maybe."

"Just..." She sighs. "It's complicated. Maybe we're not ready for complicated."

"Right."

"Okay," Jess says with false determination. "From now on, no funny business. Middle school dance rules: three feet on the floor, no body hugs."

Nick looks up at her, his face sad and serious. "Is that what you want?"

 _No_. "Yeah."

"You sure?" he asks again, giving her one last chance to back out.

 _Not at all_. "Yep."

"Alright." He nods. "You got it."

"Great," Jess says, her throat tight.

Nick clears his throat. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

That night Jess feels too wired to sleep, and even grading papers doesn't take her mind off of the mess that happened tonight. Her stomach grumbles and she sighs before setting aside her work to go get a snack.

Nick is already in the kitchen when she walks in, jacket and tie discarded. He looks up from his paperwork to give her a tired half smile. "Hey."

"Hey," she replies.

He points to the sandwich and chips he has precariously balanced on a stack of files. "We never actually ate, so..."

"Yeah, I know." She laughs a little and grabs a jar of salsa out of the cabinet. "I'm getting a snack."

Nick hums and leans his elbows onto the kitchen island. Jess tries to get the jar open, but it slips on her hand when she tries. She frowns and tries to adjust her grip, but it just slides over the metal without actually budging the lid. Jess can practically feel Nick's gaze burning into her, and she can hear his admission from earlier ringing in the back of her head.

"Jess," he says, his voice slightly lower than normal. "I can help you."

"I got it," she insists. She turns away slightly as she doubles her efforts, trying to decide exactly how much she wants the salsa.

Nick stands up and moves to stand beside her. "Jess," he says again, his voice soft.

She sets the jar on the counter and throws her hands in the air. "I don't even want..."

His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and Jess can see the tantalizing flex of his forearms as he picks up the jar and opens it as if it's nothing. Nick sets the open jar down on the island, and the faint rattle of the metal lid landing on the countertop echoes in the empty room. Jess swallows and looks up at Nick, her heart racing in her chest. He gives her a knowing smirk and slowly reaches up to undo the second and third button of his shirt, keeping his eyes on hers the whole while.

Jess' throat goes dry and she blinks, fighting off the want that's boiling in her stomach. She picks up the salsa and bowl of chips off the counter. "I... I have to go to bed."

"I'll walk with you," he says, gesturing for her to lead the way.

They slowly walk to her room, and Jess forces herself to run through every reason why sleeping with Nick is a bad idea. Because it is. No matter how bad she wants it, it's only going to mess up the already tenuous balancing act of a relationship that they have now. They already decided how it was going to be. No going back now just because Little Jess wants some very specific company.

She stops outside of her room and turns to face Nick. He's staring at her with this impossible intensity that's equally terrifying and exhilarating. They can't. They _can't_.

"Goodnight, Miller," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

Nick smirks at her. "Goodnight, Day."

Her self control wins out this time, and she manages to shut the door to her bedroom without inviting Nick to join her. Jess leans against the closed door and lets out a long exhale. They can't keep doing this. They can't keep riling each other up only for nothing to happen. They can't keep coming back to square one without ever making any progress. That's why she tried to put her foot down, tried to set boundaries in the hopes that they'll help neutralize things. But instead it's only gotten worse, the tension even thicker now that they both know the tiniest bit of what's going on in each other's heads while simultaneously leaving so much a mystery.

They can't keep this up forever. She knows that. The question is whether she'll manage to figure out what her feelings are for him before something finally happens, and whether they'll be able to salvage the relationship afterwards.


	31. Old friends

The line at the courthouse coffee stand is obscenely long given how shitty the coffee is, but Nick was up all night preparing for this testimony, and he'd drink dirty dish water if it had enough caffeine in it. He's standing in line and mulling over the latest pumpkin-flavored monstrosity and how kids today can't just drink coffee black and simple, the way it was made to be consumed, when someone taps him on the shoulder. Nick turns around, tired, confused, and ready to yell at the poor son of a bitch who thought it was a good idea to pick a fight with him at 6am.

"Hey, pal, the line ain't moving, so you can calm-" Nick starts irately before recognizing the man in the mustard yellow suit standing behind him. "Tran!"

Tran smiles his signature closed-mouth grin and gives Nick a little nod.

"Come here, man." Nick opens up his arms and pulls the older man into a hug, slapping him on the shoulder.

Nick first met Tran when he was still in law school. It was the summer after his 1L, back when he was still starry-eyed and optimistic about the legal profession and thought he could change the world by going into employment or environmental law. He got a legal internship at Tran's firm, just doing basic paper pushing, but the experience was one that he would never forget. Tran was a man of few words, but exactly the kind of lawyer Nick had wanted to be. His clients were the underdogs, the people who had been wronged by big corporations and deserved justice. As an intern, Nick would've been content spending most of his time making copies and going on coffee runs, but Tran had gone out of his way to involve Nick in the daily workings of the firm, and not just as a cheap errand boy doing busy work. Tran had become his advisor and best friend, and for the first time since he started law school, Nick thought he might actually enjoy being a lawyer.

But after Nick went back to school he fell out of contact with Tran. Nick's never been very good about staying connected to people he doesn't see regularly. Caroline started to push him to start thinking more critically about his future, pulling out statistics like the employment rate and median earnings of employment lawyers while making passive-aggressive comments about just how expensive law school was. Nick started to look around at his classmates, stuffy-headed fancy boys who wanted to go into corporate law and make millions, and how he was becoming one of them. He lost touch with the reason he went to law school in the first place, and it wasn't long before he hated everything about who he was.

Then Caroline got pregnant, and the rest is history. Nick applied to a few firms where he could specialize in the kind of legal work he was actually interested in, but they paid pennies in comparison to what the larger and more prestigious firms like Meriwether and Associates offered. The choice was clear, and with Caroline and Abbi depending on him, he had to follow the money.

"Damn, I missed you." Nick claps Tran on the shoulder again before reluctantly letting him go. He's run into Tran a handful of times over the years, but it's always great to see him every time. "Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?"

Tran smiles and nods towards Nick's briefcase.

"You're here for my case?" Nick asks, and Tran nods again in confirmation. "You're representing the workers, aren't you? Of course you are, you compassionate son of a bitch."

Tran chuckles at that.

"Well, here, let me buy you a drink." Nick checks his watch. They've got a little bit of time to catch up before his colleagues arrive and catch him fraternizing with the enemy. He'd originally planned to squeeze in a few minutes of review beforehand, but he's already as prepared as he's ever going to be.

They get their drinks and find an empty table in a secluded corner of the little cafe area. Tran sips at his green tea and nods along thoughtfully as Nick blabbers on and on about his life. Tran's always been a good listener. He'd feel bad, but it's been years since the last time they saw each other, and a lot has happened.

"Caroline and I got divorced," he says. Tran frowns and reassuringly sets his hand on top of Nick's. "Yeah, it sucks. But I'm dealing with it, I guess. I don't know... it was kinda a long time coming. We're still on good terms. At least, I think we are."

Nick takes a drink of his coffee. He's not sure with Caroline anymore. They don't talk much outside of coordinating logistics about when Nick is available to spend time with Abbi or how to split up their various expenses between their two incomes. He had thought they were doing alright, but then after she caught him and Jess on their date/not-date/date, things have been slightly more strained.

"I still see Abbi," he explains, noting the subtle look of concern on Tran's face. "She's good, by the way. She just started at this new gifted and talented school and she's blown all her teachers out of the water with her smarts. She definitely didn't get that from me."

Tran stares at him skeptically.

"Alright, alright. Would you settle down? Maybe I chipped in a little." Nick sighs and settles back into his seat. "I wish I got to see her more. But Meriwether is already busting my balls for cutting down my hours; my hands are tied."

Tran nods in understanding. Damn, Nick's missed talking to him. It's almost like Tran has this natural charm that just draws all of Nick's thoughts and secrets right out of him. But it's good, because he knows that Tran is one of the "good guys" and Nick feels like he's one of the few people in the world that he can actually trust.

"Can I tell you something, as a friend?" Nick glances around the little seating area and leans in a little closer to his old advisor. "You know, _off the record_."

One of Tran's eyebrows raises in surprise. He lifts his fingers to his mouth and mimes zipping it shut.

"I don't think we- That _the defense_ has a good case," he says, voice dropping down to a conspiratorial whisper. If anyone gets wind of this, he'll be fired on the spot and Meriwether will make sure he's blacklisted for the rest of his legal career. "In my _personal_ opinion, I think that the union is in the right here, and if they push the case forward before Deschanel Industries has a chance to shell out enough money to cover their asses, well, I think they could win."

Tran hums thoughtfully and leans back into his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Nick critically. "I think you're right," he says in his rich signature baritone.

Tran's a man of few words, but damn, when he speaks, it's like the world stands still. The words of praise rattle around in Nick's head as his chest swells with pride. "You do?"

Tran nods again.

"Yeah, but a fat lot of good that does me when I'm the one that's being paid to take you down." Nick sits back and takes a drink of his coffee. "Unless we create an alliance. Now that would be _glorious._ "

Tran smiles and gives Nick a pointed look.

"What? You want me to work for you?" Nick asks skeptically.

Tran shakes his head. He holds up his hands and clasps them together.

Nick's eyes go wide in surprise. "You want me to be a partner at the firm? Tran, I'm flattered. I really am. But what about Kai?"

Tran opens up his jacket and pulls his wallet out of the front pocket. He carefully slides out a sleek business card and passes it over to Nick, who looks it over carefully.

"Well, well, well, would you look at this. She started her own business. Guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree." Nick looks up to see Tran smiling at him. "But seriously, man. I appreciate it. But I can't work for you."

Tran gives him a pointed look.

"Okay, fine, I can't work _with_ you. But it's not like I don't want to! But I have Caroline and Abbi to support. As much as I hate to push numbers on ya, I don't know if I could swing it."

Tran rolls his eyes. He points to the business card Nick's holding and gestures for Nick to give it back to him. Nick hesitantly passes it over, and Tran pulls a pen out of his inner pocket and scribbles something on the back of the business card.

"Oh, you're gonna do the classy number writing thing, are ya?" Nick teases as he takes the card back. _That's the move right there, I bet he even has two pens._

He flips it over to look at the salary Tran's proposing and- _woah_. That's quite a bit more than he expected, although it makes sense that the offer for a co-owner of the firm would be drastically higher than the offer he'd gotten back when he was looking for a job right out of law school.

"Are you serious?" he asks in disbelief, and Tran just chuckles. "You are serious. Goddamn. Well," Nick runs a hand through his hair, his mind spinning. This is happening. He could totally make this work. "Can I get back to you about this tonight?"

Tran nods. He looks down at his wrist and taps his watch before standing up. Nick glances down at the time, cursing under his breath when he realizes he's a few minutes late to the pre-briefing meeting with Julia and their other colleagues. He leaps out of his seat and dashes down the hall, his thoughts still going a mile a minute and trying to figure out if he could actually spin this around to where he could work for Tran using his legal talents to fight for something he actually cared about.

Julia gives him the stink eye when he finally arrives to take his place just outside the courtroom. Nick smiles apologetically at the other unimpressed lawyers. The testimony goes off without a hitch, but Nick still catches himself drifting off into his own thoughts, about how crazy it is that Tran would offer him a job after years of them not seeing each other, and how it's even crazier that he might actually take it. Part of him has always wanted to own his own law practice one day, but he didn't want to become some big corporate figurehead, like he thought he had to be to make that happen. He'd wanted to run something simple, something for the common man. Tran Family Law was just that.

There's a sudden pain in his shin, and Nick snaps back to focus to realize that Julia's kicked him to get his attention. She still has her attention trained on whoever is on the stand, but there's a note in her sharp lettering in the corner of Nick's legal pad.

 _Get your head out of the clouds and back in the courtroom before you blow this for us._

Nick looks back across the room and catches Tran's gaze. The man smirks knowingly at him and gives him a wink. In that moment Nick thinks to himself, _fuck it._ The minute he leaves this courthouse he's quitting his job at Meriwether to work for Tran. Does he have all the logistics worked out yet? No. Is he taking a huge gamble? Yes. But for this first time in nearly a decade, Nick actually feels _good_ about where he's going. Some things are worth taking a leap of faith for.

* * *

A few hours later Nick's back at the loft, a new contract in his briefcase, still riding the adrenaline high of sending his letter of resignation to Meriwether. He unlocks the door and lets himself in, tossing his briefcase and jacket onto the kitchen table, and goes to root around in the fridge for some kind of celebratory feast.

"You're in a good mood," Jess observes, watching him in amusement from her seat at the kitchen island.

Nick ducks his head out of the fridge and gives her a big grin. "Yep. I quit my job today."

Jess' jaw drops open. "You _what?"_

"I ran into my old mentor at the courthouse today, we got to talking, and he offered me a job at his firm doing employment and labor law." Nick shrugs.

"And you just... said yes?" Jess asks, bewildered. "Just jumped right on in?"

"Yeah. I mean, I should probably be freaking out or something, but I feel weirdly calm about the whole thing." He shakes his head and smiles. Nick from two years ago _never_ would've been brave enough to do what he did today. Past Nick would've dragged his feet for weeks before finally deciding that it was better to miss an incredible opportunity like this than to gamble on the risk of failure.

Nick grabs a pack of salami out of the fridge before closing it and turning back to the island. Jess is still staring at him like she isn't completely convinced that this is really happening.

"It's just..." Nick shrugs and pops a piece of salami into his mouth. "I'm tired of being miserable. I'm tired of working for soulless corporate entities that just want me to help them screw over good people who didn't do anything wrong. I'm tired of working 70 hours or more each week doing what I hate. I want to spend more time with my daughter and my friends and actually _enjoy_ life, you know?"

"Uh huh," Jess agrees, still looking concerned as she sets her elbow on the counter and rests her chin on the palm of her hand.

"You know, this is my career, and I'm trying to... do some good. Okay?"

Jess stares blankly at him. "Uh huh."

Nick bites into another piece of salami. "You know, Tran is who motivated me to become a lawyer. And he wants me to take over his firm in a few years. Can you imagine that? Me? _Nicholas Miller and Associates_. And I'd get one of those big oak desks with the huge leather armchair, oh man." He shakes his head in disbelief and grabs another slice of salami. "I mean, it's crazy. I'm actually moving up in the world."

"Uh huh," Jess says again, her gaze glassy.

He frowns at her. "What?"

Jess' chin slips off her hand and she blinks in surprise. "Sorry. Sorry, I..." She clears her throat and gives her head a little shake. "Sorry, I'm just _so exhausted_ ," she explains with a yawn. "I must not have slept well last night."

"Well, hey, take care of yourself, alright?" Nick says seriously. He knows that Jess is really working hard to impress everyone at her new school, and that she has the same tendency to overwork herself that he does. He reaches out and sets his hand on her wrist, reassuringly running his thumb over the curve of the bone there. "Ya gotta sleep."

She looks down at his hand and takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah I'm gonna just..."

Nick gives her hand a squeeze before letting her go. Jess slowly stands up from the kitchen island, tripping a little bit over her feet on the way down, and she lets out a nervous little giggle when she catches herself on the counter before falling. He stuffs another piece of salami in his mouth and shoos her off. "Go on, ya ninny. Get some shut-eye."

Jess nods in agreement and heads off to her room.

* * *

Jess is very odd around him for the next few days. She keeps doing this thing where she seemingly can't stay still when they're in the same room together, always fidgeting with her skirt or her hair or her hands. And she keeps avoiding making eye contact with him, always ducking her head to stare down at her shoes or scrolling through her seemingly endless Snap-Gram feed.

At first Nick thinks that she's upset with him for something that he did, so he tries to be a little extra nice to her, but that only seems to make the problem worse. Jess gets this panicked gleam in her eyes every time Nick smiles at her, and she lets out her nervous giggle-shriek whenever he tries to pat her on the back or rub her arm. He tries to compliment the dress she's wearing one day, and she literally runs out of the room with a muttered " _Oh, God."_

It's incredibly frustrating. Nick thought they had finally moved into a good place in their friendship. Sure, he still has feelings for Jess, but she doesn't feel the same way about him, and all the other variables in their relationship make this way too complicated. There's some part of him that's always going to be in love with Jess, but he needs to face the music and move on from her.

So he's decided to focus on his career for a little bit. He'll establish himself at the new office and spend some more time with Abbi, all the while ignoring the ache in his chest whenever Jess shies away from him. But it's fine. He's fine. They're in a good place right now. They're best friends, Nick has a new job, and he's taking Abbi wherever she wants for dinner tonight and then she's spending the weekend at the loft.

* * *

On his last day of working for Meriwether, Nick stops in a flower shop to buy the perfect bouquet to say "I'm sorry for leaving you here to go work somewhere else." Thankfully, the store clerk is both very helpful and non-judgmental, and he heads into the office building feeling a little overconfident.

Teresa loves the flowers, but she chews him out for not giving her enough warning. Nick apologizes a half-dozen times as he packs up his office, and she hovers in the doorway and makes unimpressed noises the whole time. The end of the work day finally rolls around, and she pulls Nick into a hug.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you," Teresa says, her arms wrapped tight around him.

"I'm still going to be in L.A.," Nick counters. "We'll still see each other."

"Mmhm," she hums skeptically before letting him go. "Take care of yourself. Don't work yourself too hard. Spend more time with Abbi; they always grow up too fast."

"I will," he promises.

"Alright."

"You sure you'll be fine without me? I'm sure I'll need a new administrative assistant at the new firm."

Teresa raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Honey, I'm only six months from retirement here. I don't love you _that_ much."

Nick laughs and picks up his two boxes, looking around the room one last time. It seems odd to leave it after spending so much of his time within these four walls. If he really thinks about it, he's spent a good chunk of his life here, but Nick quickly stops that train of thought since he knows it will only drag him into a perpetual guilt spiral that he doesn't want to go down.

He gives Teresa one last smile before heading down the hall to the elevator, boxes in hand. As he's heading down to the lobby it finally hits him, and he wonders if he really made the right decision, if he should've turned Tran down and stuck to what was safe. He could probably go up to Meriwether's office right now and beg for his job back. He'd probably have to work all the shit cases to get back into her good graces, but she probably wouldn't fire him or even dock his pay by too much. He'd still be safe in the same way as most other people living their ordinary lives.

But no. This is what he wants. He's sure of it. He feels _good_ about it. He's spent his whole life playing it safe and doing the "right" thing, and it's only ever made him miserable. It's time for him to start doing things, to stop being afraid. Nick walks out to the parking lot, and he only spares the building a passing glance over his shoulder as he tosses his things into the passenger's seat. As he's driving down the road towards his new job, he can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and his heart pounding in his chest driving him forward.


	32. ADH

The difference between his old job and working for Tran is like night and day. The massive, looming cloud of near-constant anxiety and pressure to do better has disappeared, leaving him relaxed for probably the first time ever in his professional career. His new job is so much more rewarding, and for once he actually feels like he's helping people in need, which pushes him to do better and work harder. It's a different kind of pressure. He's not pushing himself like he was; he's just chasing that natural adrenaline of being in his element, doing what he loves. He's even more productive here than he was on his best days at his old firm.

It's a very weird transition, because all the associates at Tran's firm are so open with each other. At _Meriwether LLP_ it was almost a weakness to talk about one's personal life. Nick had one photo of Caroline and Abbi in his old office, and even then he'd kept it tucked away in his desk drawer. Here people not only have pictures of their families all over their desks, but they talk about them all the time; there's even a friends and family office event once every financial quarter. It's entirely foreign to Nick to be on a first name basis with the people he works with, let alone consider them to be his friends.

But it's nice. He no longer dreads going into work, and he doesn't feel guilty for not working around the clock. When he takes work home it's because he's passionate about the case he's developing, not because he needs to meet an insane work quota. He has time to spend with Abbi, he's sleeping more than 4 hours a night, and he's never felt better. He's actually happy for the first time in a long time.

The only problem is Jess. She's avoiding him a lot lately, ducking out whenever he walks in and awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Nick tries to be persistent with her, just like she was with him back when they were still building up their friendship. He sits next to her on the couch in the evenings, invites her to get dinner with him, and ropes her into playing Monopoly and Clue whenever Abbi visits for the weekend. Abbi absolutely loves Miss Jess, and it's precious to see the two of them baking cookies or working on a painting together. But whenever Nick joins in, the dynamic suddenly changes. Jess always seems more withdrawn around him for some reason, which is a real shame.

Nick's sure to keep things platonic between him and Jess like she wants, and stays mindful of their 'Middle School Dance Rules.' But he's still in love with her, and just because he's not allowed to kiss her doesn't mean that he can't enjoy her company. And if he happens to occasionally allow his gaze to linger a moment too long or let his hand "accidentally" brush over the skin of her wrist, well, he's just a man, after all. And it's not like he's causing any harm.

But despite his best efforts, Jess only seems to get more jittery around him. Her laugh is almost a little _too_ forced. There's the slightest gleam of panic in her eyes when he makes prolonged eye contact with her. And she always seems to be on edge whenever they're alone together. It's baffling. The last thing he wants is to make her uncomfortable, but every time he tries to ask her about it, she lets out a squeaky "I'm fine!" before ducking into her room.

She's all squirrelly lately, and she seems to be under the impression that he hasn't noticed the change in her behavior. But he has. He wishes she would just tell him what's going on, or what he did to make her uncomfortable around him all of a sudden. He just wants to fix things, to figure out why she keeps staring at him with this faraway look in her eyes, why she sounds all out of breath when she's talking to him.

* * *

Cece swings by the loft late on Friday night to pick up Jess for a night out with a bunch of her model friends, and promises to drop her best friend off later. Jess tells the guys that she'll be home late and insists that there's no need to wait up for her. Then she blows the three of them a kiss before Cece drags her out the front door.

Nick waits up for her anyway, just to make sure she gets home safe. He stays up way too late, catching up on his backlog of _The Walking Dead_ , waiting to see if she'll text him asking for a ride home. Just as he's about to fall asleep, Jess stumbles through the front door.

"Nick!" she cheers, a big smile on her face as she bumps the door shut with her hip. She walks over to where he's sitting on the couch, barely avoiding tripping on the corner of the rug. "You're at the loft!"

He laughs. It's pretty rare that he gets to see Jess this drunk, and she's the best kind of drunk. _Happy Drunk._ She's cheery and giggles at everything. Her smile would brighten even the darkest dive bar. Nick's always been more of a curmudgeon when he drinks, but he has a deep appreciation for anyone who doesn't get all surly the minute they've had a few too many.

"Yeah, I live here," he says in amusement, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. "So do you."

Jess nods, a very serious look on her face. She digs her phone out of her purse before tossing the bag on the ground while she reads through something on the bright screen. She sways a little on her impossibly high heels and scrunches her nose up in thought before typing out something and then shutting off her phone. Jess reaches for her bag and looks down in confusion when her hand hits her hip.

"My purse is on the floor," she observes as she stares down at the ground.

"You just put it there," he explains, biting back a grin.

Jess looks back up at him, her eyes dangerously watery. "I did?"

Nick fights off the urge to laugh, because the situation is objectively pretty hilarious. But then again, he can't help but feel a little bad for Drunk Jess, who's about to burst into tears because she threw her purse down onto the ground. _Happy Drunk becomes Weepy Drunk far too easily._ "How drunk are you right now?"

"Umm..." Jess looks up at the ceiling and taps her chin in thought. She sways again, and has to catch her balance before she looks back at Nick with a grin. "I'm _pretty drunk._ "

"Well," Nick says as he stands up from the couch. "Let's get you some water, then."

She grabs on to his arm and lets him lead the way to the bathroom, managing to only stumble once on the way. Nick laughs as he catches her, and she grins at him and whispers, "Thank you."

"No problem," he says as they walk into the bathroom. "Do you think you need to throw up?" he asks now that they're within range of the toilet.

There's a drawn out pause as she considers his question, just long enough to make him a little nervous. "No."

"Alright," Nick says skeptically as he takes a step away from her to fill up a cup of water at the sink. "Drink up."

Jess takes the cup he offers, her hand brushing up against his in a way that seems to be more than just friendly. But that's likely just him projecting. Both Jess and Schmidt are notoriously touchy-feely drunks, and anything from fleeting touches to casual groping is par for the course on a particularly sloppy game of True American.

"You know." She looks down at the half-empty cup of water. "Drinking water when you're already drunk doesn't help with a hangover. 'Cause your ne- nep- _nephrons_ aren't working. 'Cause of alcohol. And there's no ADH, Attention Deficit Hormone. No, wait." She stares down at the cup with a serious look on her face. "Anti-Peeing Hormone. There's a fancier word but it just means pee."

"Yeah, well, I'm still gonna make you finish that," Nick insists and nods at the cup.

Jess pouts before taking a few gulps of the remaining water. Meanwhile Nick plucks her toothbrush out of the cup and squeezes a little toothpaste onto it. He trades her the empty cup for the toothbrush and then watches in amusement as she sloppily brushes her teeth. Midway through she turns to grin at him, her mouth full of white foam that sprays out onto the bathroom mirror as she giggles at her own antics.

"C'mon, you clown," he teases and bumps into her shoulder. "Finish up."

She rolls her eyes and then leans over the sink to rinse out her mouth. Once she's done she stands up and drops her toothbrush back into place with a big yawn.

"Yep. Bedtime," Nick says insistently.

Jess nods in agreement and lets out another long yawn, stretching her arms out before leaning her head onto Nick's shoulder. He tentatively wraps his arm around her waist as she clings to his bicep as he guides her down the hall to her room. Is he being a little _too_ nice to her? Maybe. But she's always taken care of him when he's drunk, and it's not too much trouble for him to return the favor. At least that's what he tells himself so he doesn't feel completely pathetic about the way it feels so right that he's able to care for her now.

"I like you," she murmurs sleepily, turning her head so that her chin is hooked over his shoulder.

He knows that the words don't mean anything. That she's absolutely plastered and would confess her love to any stranger who held the door for her, that she's drunk enough to have an emotional connection with an abandoned shoe on the side of the road. But her words still start that spark in the pit of his stomach that he tries so hard to ignore.

"I like you, too," he confesses as he opens up the door to her bedroom and ushers her inside.

Jess sits down on the side of the bed and leans over to tug off her shoes. "And I like your little bubble belly," she says, poking him in the stomach as she sits back up. "It blows up like a bubble," she explains while making a gesture with her hands to help demonstrate her point.

He chuckles and loosely catches her hands with his. _Drunk Jess really is something else_. "Yeah, that's what it does."

She cranes her head up to grin at him and Nick smiles right back. She's about three drinks past drunk right now, and it makes it far too easy for Nick's mind to read too much into her easy affection. He knows it's all meaningless for her, but some part of him wants to indulge in the fantasy and to pretend like this is how she really feels about him. That he's helping her into bed after a date night that got a little out of hand. That she'll tug on one of his old flannels to sleep in before pulling him into bed with her. That she'll tell him she loves him between sloppy, tequila-flavored kisses until she drifts off to sleep in his arms.

But that's all just a fantasy. Jess doesn't care about him that way. She doesn't want him, and she never will. He's just leading himself on at this point. _Face the facts, you clown._

Jess' face shifts into a more serious expression as stares up at him, her big blue eyes gleaming and cheeks flushed from one too many drinks. Then a slow smile spreads over her face, she throws out her arms and says, "I wanna have sex with you!"

Nick's brain goes blank. _Did she just- No. No way._ "W-What?" he manages to stammer out.

"I wanna have sex with you!" she repeats. Jess bites down on her lower lip and reaches out to tug at the bottom hem of his t-shirt.

He grabs on to her wrists in an attempt to stop her advances, his mind still reeling from her confession. _That's not how Jess feels about you_ , he tries to remind himself. _Middle School Dance Rules. That's what she told you she wanted_. But this all makes so much sense: the way she's been so on edge around him, the way she keeps staring at him when she thinks he isn't looking, the heavy tension between them any time they're alone together. It's what he's suspected this whole time, but he'd been too afraid of being rejected by her once again that he hadn't let himself believe all the signs were true.

He still has to be cautious though. Maybe he's leaping to conclusions. It could be that he's just hearing what he wants to hear. She's drunk. Nick's said all kinds of stupid stuff when he's drunk. "Whoa, do you know what you're saying right now, Jess?"

Jess nods, a look of drunken sincerity coming over her face. "Yeah," she says, drawing out the word in a way that only makes him more uneasy.

"Are you sure?"

Jess looks up at him, tugging on his shirt so he's a few inches closer to her. Nick can smell the minty flavor of her toothpaste and the lingering booze on her breath. "I want to have sex with you," she whispers, her voice deadly serious.

His heart kicks into high gear at that, and her words send a rush down his spine that goes straight to his dick. Jess still cares about him. Jess wants him the way he'd only dared to dream she would.

 _No, she's drunk_ , he reminds himself, trying to clear his head. "Jess..."

"Sexy time for you, says me," she says with a giggle, her hands sliding up the front of his chest. "You are a _beautiful_ white man, Nick Miller."

The statement is just weird enough for his rational thinking to kick in, because Jess isn't just tipsy, she's full-on _drunk_. She almost cried over not being able to reach her purse. She's three sheets to the wind, and what she's saying is just straight up nonsense. She doesn't mean any of it; she's just drunk and he's the closest guy around. A sour taste fills his mouth at the image, some sleaze at the bar who would gladly take advantage of Jess' current state to cop a feel.

"Yeah, you're drunk," he says, trying to remind himself of why this is an awful idea while whatever spark of hope he had promptly dies out. "This is all nonsense."

But Jess doesn't seem to understand what he's saying. Instead of letting him go she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down towards her. Nick catches himself on the mattress and tries to pull away, but Jess doesn't seem to want him to go. She grabs on to the waistband of his pants and pulls him down, making him lose his balance and fall down on top of her.

He quickly tries to push up off the bed, fighting off the urge to just give in to what he's wanted for so long. It's even more difficult with Jess insistently reaching up for him as she tries to pull his shirt off. Nick sits up, trying to put enough distance between them to clear his head and ward off Jess' advances.

" _This_ little piggy went to market," Jess says with flirtatious smile. She fumbles for his belt buckle, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Nick purposefully pushes her hands away. " _That_ little piggy can't be touched by you right now," he insists as he quickly redoes his belt while Jess sneakily slides her hand into his pocket to cop a feel.

 _Jess is drunk_ , he reminds himself. As insistent as she is right now, there's no way that she means what she's saying. She's in no condition to make any kind of decision right now, especially one as important as this. He's barely buzzed from his last beer, the last thing he wants is to take advantage of her drunkenness to live out his own fantasy. He doesn't want her to wake up the next morning filled with regret.

And in some selfish way, Nick doesn't want their first time to be like this, some drunken tryst that she won't remember in the morning. He wants it to be sweet and meaningful, he wants to take her out on a real date first and then wait for her to invite him to spend the night in her room instead of across the hall. He wants to show her just how much she means to him, to tell her he loves her with his actions because he's too much of a coward to say the words out loud.

"C'mon, Jess, you're way too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk; I'm Judy Garland!" she says in some kind of old-timey character voice. She throws her arms out for a little jazz hands, and it's just enough for Nick to climb out of her reach. "Read all about it!"

"Hey, Judy, let's get you to bed, doll," he counters in his own cartoony voice as he manages to wrangle her under the covers.

"That's right, I need my beauty rest," she says, her eyes drooping shut as she settles into the bed.

Nick lets out a sigh of relief and pulls the comforter up to her chin. "Right."

"Get outta here, sailor," she mutters, half-asleep. Nick slowly backs out of her room, switching off the lights on his way out.

It's not until he gets into the safety of his room that he finally relaxes. His heart is still thundering in his chest as he lets his eyes fall shut and takes a few deep breaths to calm it down. Nick leans his back against the closed door for a moment and tries to think about the painfully boring spreadsheet he'd been analyzing this afternoon or the disgusting clattering of Schmidt's overgrown toenails, anything but the breathy sound of Jess saying she wanted to have sex with him.

Nick falls onto his bed with a resigned groan. Jess' voice is still ringing in his ears and the image of her flushed cheeks and smoky blue eyes is burned into his memory. Nick hates himself for it, but he can't help but slide his hand down the front of his sweatpants and relive the moment, only this time Jess isn't drunk. Fantasy Jess whispers in his ear about just how much she wants him, about how good he feels in her hands. She bats her dark eyelashes and bites down on her lower lip, and Nick tightens his grip as he gets closer and closer. He uses the memory of that morning in the dining room to fill in the gaps in his imagination, the sweet taste of Jess' slick mouth and the press of her curves tight against him.

" _So good, Nick,"_ Fantasy Jess moans, perfect and beautiful. " _I love you."_

He comes at that, and it's not even two minutes afterwards that it hits him how truly pathetic he is.

* * *

The next morning Jess stumbles into the kitchen in a pair of dark sunglasses, the same tiny, black skirt and dark tights she had on last night and a wrinkled blouse that he's pretty sure she wore just last week. She fumbles for a mug and pours herself a cup of coffee with a heavy scoop of sugar before taking a long gulp.

Nick chuckles at her hungover state, feeling mildly sympathetic. "Fun night?" he teases.

Jess groans in response, pressing the heel of her palm to her temple. "Cece kept making us do birthday shots, and then Nadia was vaping something really weird that fogged up the whole limo. One minute we're doing shots, then the next I'm climbing into the limo. I think we stopped to eat somewhere? I just remember being very excited about eating french fries." Jess groans again. "Then I woke up."

"Yeah, you seemed pretty out of it when you got home." He's not sure if he's disappointed or relieved that she doesn't remember what happened. It confirms his theory that she didn't mean anything by it, and now he has yet another impossible secret to keep from her. But at least it's not like their other encounters that form the menacingly dark cloud looming over their heads, the threat of rain that they mutually refuse to acknowledge.

"Oh, did I wake you up?" Jess says with an apologetic grimace. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, no," Nick cuts her off. "I was already up. I'm just glad you got home safe."

"Well, thank you." She smiles tiredly at him as she takes another drink from her mug. "From both Drunk Jess and Sober Jess."

"Yeah, well..." Nick shrugs and stares down at his newspaper. "Anytime."

They both have to leave for work a few minutes later. Nick stares at Jess out of the corner of his eye on the elevator ride down, watching as she rocks up and down in her flats, squinting at the fluorescent lights from behind her sunglasses. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and some part of him knows that he's never going to get over her. Jess is always going to be the most incredible person he's ever met. She's stolen a piece of his heart, and it's always going to belong to her.

Nick ducks his head to stare down at his dress shoes. He can't have her. As much as he wants, he just can't. Things are never going to work out between them, and he needs to finally accept that, to stop stringing along his own hopes for what will never be.

But even still, his hands itch to reach out and tangle his fingers up with hers, to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to him, to scoop her up and carry her off to his bedroom. Instead, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks and stares at Jess' reflection in the dull metal of the elevator doors, only allowing his gaze to linger for a few seconds before bringing it back to his own dark-suited figure.


	33. Sam again

"Dad! Come on!" Abbi says, tugging insistently on the sleeve of his shirt. "There's no line. Please, please, pleaseeeee..."

"Okay," he concedes, slowly standing up from the picnic table.

It's the end of the first grading period, and Abbi's school set up a little carnival/picnic thing to celebrate the kids' hard work and give the parents a chance to visit the school and see some of what their insanely expensive tuition is going towards. There's dozens of middle schoolers running amok in the grassy field, sitting with their friends on picnic tables as they enjoy their snacks of funnel cake and hot dogs, and visiting with their favorite teachers who are manning the different games and prize tables.

Abbi grabs on to his hand and drags him across the park to where a handful of different booths are set up. Jess is set up at the face-painting station. She's wearing a brightly colored apron, a few different-sized brushes stuck through her messy ponytail. There's a smear of neon orange paint along her cheekbone and another spot of purple on the bridge of her nose and the nosepiece of her glasses.

Jess scrunches up her face in focus as she carefully finishes painting the wings of a dragon on the bicep of a little redheaded boy who can't seem to sit still. She finishes with an extra flourish of her paintbrush before leaning back to look over her work. She nods in approval and pulls a mirror out of the pocket of her apron so the boy can examine her handiwork.

"There you go, Harold!" she says brightly, holding up the mirror as the boy admires his new addition.

"Awesome!" he cheers, flexing his arm to make the painting wiggle. "Thank you, Miss Day!"

She laughs in delight as Harold jumps out of his seat and runs across the field to show off the painting to his friends. Jess drops her paintbrush into a vase filled with murky water and wipes her hands off on a paint-stained towel. "Who's next?" she asks, glancing over at Abbi with a sparkle in her eye.

"Me!" Abbi says excitedly as she hops up into the chair, swinging her feet back and forth as she settles into the seat.

"Well, hi there, Miss Abbi!" Jess says in her full-on teacher voice, bright and cheery. She turns away from her workstation to look at Abbi and her grin falters slightly when she spots Nick leaning against the side of the booth. "Oh, and Nick."

"Hey, Miss Day," Nick says cheekily, and Jess' smile returns to its usual luminescence as she turns back to where Abbi is impatiently bouncing in her seat.

"So what can I do for you?" she asks, gesturing to the poster of examples behind her.

"I want that one!" Abbi responds quickly as she points to a complicated flower design.

Nick looks at his daughter expectantly.

"Please?" she adds with a gap-toothed grin.

Jess laughs and starts lining up pots of paint. "And what color flowers, Miss Abbi?"

"Purple and Pink!"

"Oh, your favorites," Jess says with a smile as she plucks out a fresh paintbrush from the array of ones sitting on the table. "I should've guessed." Abbi is practically vibrating in excitement as Jess mixes up a color of green on her paint palette. Jess raises her eyebrows in amusement and holds up the paintbrush. "Okay, Abbi, can you hold _super_ still?"

Abbi nods her head quickly before freezing up, biting down nervously on her lower lip as Jess leans in to start painting. "Can I still talk?" she whispers.

Jess huffs a quiet laugh and looks up to where Nick's sitting on the empty edge of the front table. He gives her a shrug and spares a knowing glance towards his daughter. He's not sure Abbi would even be able to stay quiet that long. Jess seems to think the same, and looks back at Abbi with a bright smile. "Sure! How are your classes?"

Nick smiles as he watches the two of them. Abbi does her best to hold still as she chatters on about her classes and how she likes her new school and the new friends she's made and the other teachers she likes, but she likes Miss Day the most (but that's a secret). Jess smiles and nods along at Abbi's ramblings, biting her lip in concentration as she paints swirling green vines over Abbi's temple and down her cheek.

He gets this warm feeling from deep in his chest at the sight: the way Abbi's eyes light up with awe when she's together with her favorite teacher, the way Jess listens so intently and genuinely cares about what Abbi has to say. Jess is incredibly good with kids, which makes sense given her profession, but she seems to be especially good with Abbi, who treats her like one of her idols. She's told him more than once that when she grows up she'd like to be a teacher "just like Miss Day."

"Have you started working on your Pepperwood story again?" Jess asks as she rinses out her paintbrush and mixes up the pink paint.

"Yep!" Abbi says excitedly, squirming a little in her seat even as she does her best to hold still. "Detective Pepperwood just found out who the jewel thief is."

Jess smiles and leans in to paint the first flower on Abbi's cheek. "Oh?"

"It's Ms. Night!"

"Jessica Night!" Jess exclaims. "How dramatic! I never would've guessed," she says with a knowing glimmer in her eye as she encourages Abbi to continue.

"And guess what?" Abbi's smile turns mischievous, and she glances up at her dad. "Pepperwood _likes_ her."

Jess' smile slips off her face and she sits there for a moment, frozen in place with her paintbrush still poised over Abbi's cheek. "Well, she's his detective partner. That's why he likes her."

"No," Abbi says with a giggle. "He _like_ likes her."

Jess looks up at Nick with panic in her eyes. "Well, we don't know if Pepperwood really likes her. And he's a detective, so he has to do his job. I don't think Captain Abigail would like it if he wasn't sticking to his detective duties."

Abbi frowns in confusion. "But-"

Nick clears his throat nervously. "And Detective Night doesn't feel the same way. I mean, they're fundamentally different. They don't work together. It's never going to happen," he says insistently, ignoring the way that Abbi's face falls. He coughs again, trying to break the awkward silence that settles between the three of them. "With the characters."

"Right," Jess agrees, sounding disappointed, or that might just be Nick's imagination. "Um, what about books?" she asks, struggling to recover. "Have you finished the next story for book club?"

It takes Abbi a moment to get excited again, but eventually Jess is able to get her chatting, although the energy between the two is far less than it was just a few moments ago. An awful feeling settles into the pit of Nick's stomach. He can't help but feel like this is all his fault. Kids pick up on these things, and he's been playing with fire. Jess finishes up the purple tints on the flowers, and then leans back to grab the glitter out of the box at her feet.

"What do you think about a little sparkle?" she asks, and Abbi's eyes light up.

"Yes!"

Jess smiles brightly and tucks her used paintbrush behind her ear, pulling a tiny sponge out of the breast pocket of her apron. She carefully dabs on the glitter, still managing to get a smear of it all down the palm of her hand despite her best efforts. Once she's done, she pulls out the mirror and holds it up for Abbi to admire the shimmering bouquet painted onto the side of her face.

"It's so pretty!" Abbi cheers excitedly, and Jess beams at her.

"What do you say?" Nick prompts.

"Thank you!" she adds and hops down off the stool. "Oh! You should do something for Dad!"

Nick's eyebrows raise in surprise. "What?"

Abbi tugs insistently on his shirt sleeve. "Yes! You _have_ to."

"I think it's just for the students, Little A," Nick says awkwardly.

"Nooo..." Abbi points across the field. "Rebecca's mom got one! See?"

Nick looks over to Jess, hoping she can see the apprehension in his eyes. But she just smiles at him. "What do you think, Abbi? Does he need a few flowers too?"

"Yes yes yes!" Abbi cheers, pushing at his legs and trying to guide him into the booth. "Please, Dad? Then we can be matchy-matchy."

He glances down at Abbi, who is giving him her best puppy-dog pout. _The things he does for his daughter..._ "Alright, if you insist."

Abbi cheers as he carefully sits down on the stool, trying not to get any paint on his slacks.

"Okay, Mr. Miller, you have to be as still as a statue," Jess teases as she picks up her paint palette. "Do you think you can do that?"

"I think so, Miss Day," he counters, turning his head to the side so she can reach his cheek.

Jess snickers and leans in towards him. The paint is cold against his skin as she traces a simple flower high on his cheekbone. She's so close to him that he can almost feel the warmth of her breath ghosting over his skin, and he can feel the goosebumps rising on the back of his arms. Nick glances out of the corner of his eye to see Jess staring at him as she bites down on her bottom lip. He swallows nervously, and he can hear the catch of Jess' breath just after, her paintbrush pausing mid-stroke. The moment lasts just a second too long before Nick drops his gaze back down to his lap. Jess lets out a soft exhale before quickly painting another flower beside the first.

"Okay," she says, a tense edge to her voice that wasn't there before. "You're all set."

"Don't I get to see it?" Nick asks.

Jess blinks once, then twice before she realizes what he said. "Oh! Right. Sorry."

She holds the mirror up again, and Nick smirks at the two purple flowers she's painted on him. Abbi cranes her neck so that they're both in the reflection, and Nick's smile widens.

"There, now we match," he says, squeezing a giggling Abbi up into a hug. He looks back to Jess, who looks between the two of them with a soft gleam in her eyes. "Thanks, Jess."

She smiles back at him. "Anytime."

They stare at each other for a few seconds, and some stupid part of Nick's brain wants to tell her that he _like_ likes her, or do something else to show that he cares about her. But then he feels Abbi pulling on his wrist, and he's pulled back into the real world.

"I want cotton candy!" she says excitedly, eyeing the concessions stand over by the picnic tables.

Nick sighs, because more sugar is probably the last thing she needs right now. But then again, there's still a good bit of time for her to run off all the excess energy before Caroline arrives to pick her up. "Alright," he concedes, slowly standing up from the bench as Abbi darts off across the field. "I'll see you at home, Jess."

"See ya," she replies with a slight smile.

Nick chases after Abbi. One snow cone, cotton candy, and funnel cake later he's sitting at a picnic table with her leftovers and watching as she plays a complicated game of freeze tag with a group of girls her age. Every now and then he'll look back over to Jess, who's still busy at the face-painting station as she animatedly talks to kids while she performs her artistic magic.

He's still hyperaware of the paint that's just below the crease of his eye, his heart still racing from the loaded moment between them. It's almost poignantly poetic, to have her so close to him and yet so far, separated by only a few inches of space that he's too much of a coward to cross. Nick lets out a long exhale and digs his spoon around in the melted remnants of Abbi's rainbow snow cone. It truly is pathetic at this point, how he's constantly holding himself back from her, too afraid of her rejection to even try. She's turned him down enough times already, and as much as he wants to believe in the slim possibility that she's changed her mind, he can think of a hundred different signs to make him second-guess himself.

"Anyone sitting here?" a voice says over his shoulder.

Nick turns to look up at the older man with white hair and a black suit hovering beside the table. He's pretty sure there's a half-dozen other empty seats in the area, but before he has a chance to point this out, the stranger is already sitting on the bench beside him.

"Nice flowers," he says casually before biting into a hotdog.

His hand absentmindedly flies up to his cheek, and Nick has to hold himself back from smudging Jess' hard work. "Thanks," he mutters.

The old man nods, staring out at the park. A few incredibly long minutes pass. Nick feels on edge the whole time, hoping that the guy will take a hint and find somewhere else to sit. He watches as Abbi trips on a loose soccer ball and he immediately starts to stand up, falling back into his seat with a sigh of relief when he sees her catch herself just in time. It's not until Abbi is back to chasing the other kids that Nick settles back into his seat and realizes that the stranger had mirrored his actions.

"Do I know you?" Nick asks, more than a little creeped out by the whole situation.

"You could say that," he answers cryptically.

Nick's brow furrows. "Does your kid go here or something?"

"Or something."

"Look, pal, I'll call security," Nick threatens, feeling more uneasy by the second.

The man raises his hands in a sign of peace and leans in towards him. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"If it includes you flashing me, I'm calling the cops. I'm a lawyer. I could put you in prison for life."

He just chuckles and lowers his hands to rest them on the picnic table. "I'm you from the future."

Nick stares blankly at him for a few seconds. "Well, that's a first."

There's a suspicious glimmer in the man's eyes as he continues. "Nick, I traveled from the future to find you. I'm a time traveler."

"Sure you are," Nick says skeptically as he crosses his arms over his chest. Just because some stranger knows his name, doesn't mean that the guy's from the future. There's a good handful of people here who know him, the guy could've learned it from any of them. So what if his eyes are an eerily familiar shade of brown and his nose a little crooked like Nick's own. There's 7.6 billion people in the world, there's bound to be another guy with brown eyes and a nose that got broken in a bike accident but never really healed quite right.

"You don't believe I'm you, do you?

"Absolutely not," he scoffs.

"Well, I know you didn't eat breakfast this morning."

"Good guess, so do nearly half of all Americans," Nick counters.

"Future Nick" looks at him with a knowing gleam in his eye. "I know a girl broke your heart and you gave up on love, only to fall even harder for a girl you can't have. I know sometimes you get mad, and you don't know why. I know you're a lawyer because you think that everyone you meet has got something to hide and because you've been fighting with your father all your life."

Nick stares at the older man, his confidence wavering. "Well... I mean..." he stammers, trying to find some way to explain it all away.

"Chew on that, you clown," Future Nick counters and slowly stands up from the picnic table. He adjusts his cufflinks, nearly identical to the ones Caroline got Nick for Christmas five years ago.

Nick's stomach drops, and he reaches out to grab the sleeve of the other man's suit. "Wait. You can't say all that weird stuff and then just leave. You were wrong about the lawyer thing. But everything else was right."

Future Nick smirks at him before lowering himself back down onto the bench. "So you _do_ believe."

"I..." Nick stares at him for a moment, because this is absolute madness. Time travel isn't real. He's done the reading, and he knows that scientists are nowhere near achieving it within the next hundred years. But then again, there's just enough doubt in his mind to make him wonder.

"Well?" Future Nick looks at him expectantly.

Nick considers how insane this is one last time before asking something that only he would know. "Do I ever finish writing my zombie book?"

There's a twinkle in Future Nick's eye as he answers, "Z is for Zombie?"

"Great title," Nick says approvingly, and just like that, he's convinced. He glances back out towards where Abbi is anxiously waiting to be unfrozen. "Does she turn out alright?"

"Of course she does," Future Nick answers. "Brightest gal I know."

Nick nods in agreement. If there's anything that he's absolutely sure of, it's that Abbi is absolutely incredible, and he doesn't need the future version of himself to tell him that, but it's still nice to hear out loud. He looks across the field to where Jess is still stationed at the face-painting booth, chatting with some parent that he thinks might be Russell from his old office. She tosses her head back and laughs at something Russell says, her hand landing casually on his shoulder. A flare of jealousy rises up in Nick's stomach.

"Are we ever gonna figure out what to do about her, Future Nick?" he asks, nodding over towards Jess.

Future Nick nods wisely. "Maybe if you got out of your head, you dumbass."

Nick's brow furrows. "What?"

"You think too much, kid," Future Nick says, snagging a piece of funnel cake and popping it into his mouth. "I've got one word for ya: kiss."

"You think I haven't tried that already?" Nick scoffs. "Multiple times. But it never worked."

"No, not like that." Future Nick shakes his head. "Keep It Simple, Stupid."

 _Oh._ "That's a good one."

"Learned it from the best," he says, nudging him with his elbow. "Just stop thinking and start doing. Make her a drink. An Old Fashioned."

"Haven't made one of those in years," Nick counters.

"You'll remember."

Nick opens his mouth to ask another question, but he's interrupted by Abbi yelling for his attention.

"Dad!" she yells, waving her arms frantically.

He turns to look over at her. "One minute!"

But when he turns to face Future Nick, the bench beside him is empty. His heart stops in his chest, and Nick's eyes go wide as he searches the crowd, but he can't spot him anywhere. He jumps out of his seat, catching himself before he yells out his own name. _You can't expose his- your identity._

"Dad!" Abbi yells again as she runs up to him. Nick shakes his head in an attempt to clear it, but he can't get rid of the weird prickling sensation on the back of his neck.

"Sorry, what did you need, Little A?"

"Mom's here," she explains, her breathing hard enough to make him nervous.

"Do you need your inhaler?" he asks automatically, and Abbi rolls her eyes.

"I'm fine," she insists. "Mom wants to talk to you."

"Alright," he concedes. "But you're still going to use your inhaler."

Abbi lets out another dramatic groan as she storms off towards where Caroline is waiting. Nick follows after her, but when he stops at the trash can to throw out the remains of their snacks, he spares the courtyard one last glance, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"I can't believe you still have that on," Jess teases him later that night, nodding towards his cheek.

Nick's hand drifts up to the two flowers that are still painted on his cheekbone. They're slowly flaking off, and he'll wash off whatever is left of them tonight before bed. But currently he's not too bothered by it because Jess keeps smiling at him every now and then, a sparkle in her eyes when she spots her handiwork. It makes Nick's chest feel tight, and his mind keeps drifting off to what she told him just the other night when she admitted the impossible: that she _wanted_ him.

"I'll wash 'em off later," he says with a shrug, picking up the paring knife. He tries to do some fancy twirl thing but instead just comes dangerously close to slicing off the top of his index finger. Jess seems to notice his flub, and she gives him a knowing grin as he gives up on his attempt to be fancy and just cuts off a bit of orange peel, easy and simple.

"I didn't even know you knew how to mix drinks," she jokes as she leans her elbows on the counter and watches as Nick prepares their drinks. "It's so weird, like a hidden talent. Like if you were a secret spy or something."

Nick chuckles. "It's not a big deal. I tended bar at Schmidt's shitty house parties in college, just as a trick to impress girls."

"Well, you impressed this girl," Jess says with a teasing wink.

It's ridiculous, because he _knows_ that she's just joking, but it's just flirtatious enough to make Nick's heart skip a beat all the same. He ducks his head and smiles down at the glass as he adds the final garnish to the drink before he sets it down in front of her. "Do you like Old Fashioneds, Jess?"

"I've actually always wanted to try one," she says, which only casts further doubt on his theory that Future Nick is just a fraud. "How did you know?"

He shrugs because explaining that he was visited by the time-traveling version of himself would probably break this moment. Besides, if there are Time Travel Rules, 'Don't go blabbing about it to everyone,' is probably Rule Number One. "Just a hunch."

Jess smiles at him. She picks up the glass and clinks it against Nick's before she takes a slow sip of her drink. "Wow."

Nick's cheeks heat up and he hides his smile by taking a sip of his cocktail. It's good enough, he supposes. Nothing special. He looks up to see that Jess is still staring at him expectantly, and Nick just gives her a shrug.

"No, seriously. Nick, this is _really_ good," Jess insists, swirling her drink around in the tumbler.

He shrugs again. "It's nothing, really."

"Are you kidding?" Jess continues, and Nick gets the feeling she's just humoring him to stroke his ego. "The best I can do is a Rum and Coke, and that barely counts."

"The IBA says it's an official cocktail," he adds before taking another sip.

"See! How do you even know stuff like that?"

"I was looking for ways to procrastinate during college. I wasted a good bit of time researching how to make different drinks instead of studying for my exams." Nick shrugs and takes another slow sip. "Then in law school I spent most of my time studying at a local bar because the law library got too intense whenever midterms or finals started. I almost quit school to become a bartender."

Jess nods. "You told me about that once. On the rooftop, after the wedding."

And just like that, the mood shifts. His memory from that night is foggy at best, but Jess told him about what happened. The kiss they never really talked about. The kiss they try to pretend never even happened. The kiss Nick desperately wishes he could remember. Jess holds his gaze, a complicated look in her eyes as she opens her mouth to say something before she's interrupted by the buzzing of her phone.

They both glance down at the phone, and Nick's heart sinks to the pit of his stomach when he reads the name that's on the screen before Jess scoops it up.

"Sam, again?" he asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"Yeah. He wants to meet up for drinks." Jess blushes slightly and ducks her head to stare at her phone. Her thumbs hover over the screen and she looks up at Nick, sinking her teeth into her lower lip and seemingly unsure. "What do you think?"

Nick stares at her. He knows what he thinks. _You shouldn't be with that asshole. You should be with me_. But he doesn't say anything. He just stands there silently, like a complete idiot.

After a moment, Jess types out her response and hits send. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and slides off the barstool, grabbing her purse off the bookshelf before she walks out the door.

 _You idiot._ Nick thinks to himself as he listens to the sound of the front door slamming shut. _You goddamn idiot._

Then a half-formed and completely stupid plan appears in his head and instead of brushing it off, for once in his life, he actually goes for the risk.

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might burst through his chest, but he manages to catch the door of the elevator before it shuts. Jess looks at him in surprise, and she lets out this sharp, quiet inhale when he sweeps her up into his arms.

"Let's not think about it," he says, feeling equal parts suave and stupid with Jess' arms wrapped around his neck.

" _Nick_ ," she whispers faintly. It sends a shiver down his spine, and his grip on her back and thighs flexes as he carries her down the hallway and into the loft.

They arrive at his room, and _yeah, this is happening._ Nick nudges the door shut with his foot, and it closes with a quiet thud that echoes in the silence of his room. He looks down at the bed, the tangle of sheets and his comforter kicked off to the side of the mattress. He can barely hear anything other than the rush of his blood thundering in his ears and the staccato rhythm of his heart beating against his ribcage. He looks back at Jess and marvels at just how _right_ she feels in his arms.

"Nick?" Jess whispers again, almost breathless.

He stares into her eyes, the blue of her irises even larger as they peer at him through the thick lenses of her glasses. Nick opens his mouth to say something, but the words get trapped in his throat. Instead, he just silently looks at her, his eyes dropping down to her slightly parted lips. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he looks back up at her eyes to see Jess staring at him with an intense look of want.

Jess' grip at the back of his neck tightens as she pulls herself up to kiss him. Nick's eyelids flutter shut at the press of her mouth to his, and he tilts his head to give her the best angle while the hand on her back pulls her closer to him. She sighs against his lips, and Nick gently teases her lower lip with his teeth the way he knows she likes. Jess moans in response, and something in his chest swells at the sound, at the way he's learned her body and knows how to coax those breathy sounds out of her.

His arms are starting to lose their strength from holding her up for so long, and Nick turns towards the bed to lay Jess down on the mattress. She keeps her arms around his neck, pulling him down so that he hovers over her, one hand trapped under the small of her back and the other propped up above her head to hold his weight up. Nick kisses her as they settle down onto the bed, his thigh pressed up between her legs as he slides his hand around her waist and up the slope of her ribcage to cup her breast.

" _Shit, Jess,"_ he curses as she rocks her hips up into his thigh. Nick grinds his growing erection into the crest of her hip and she lets out a gasp in response before kissing him again, one of her hands threading through his hair as she deepens the kiss. His nose bumps up against the bridge of her glasses, and Jess blindly reaches her hand up to tug them off and set them on his nightstand.

After a moment, Nick reluctantly pulls away from her mouth, his breath coming hard and fast as he nudges her chin back to kiss down her neck.

"Oh, God," Jess moans, her head falling back against the pillow as her grip on his hair tightens. Her free hand bunches up the fabric of his shirt, a fruitless attempt to pull it off of him. Nick chuckles and sucks at a sensitive spot by her throat, and Jess lets out another moan that sends a shiver down his spine.

"Clothes off," she mutters as she moves her hands to his front and fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. "C'mon, _please."_

Despite his best attempts to distract her by kissing and sucking at her neck, Jess manages to get his button down open and pushes it back towards his shoulders. Nick shrugs the shirt off and then groans against the sweet-smelling curls of her hair at the feel of her hands roaming over his bare skin. "I wanted this for so long," he confesses as he trails a sloppy path of kisses back up to her mouth.

"Me too," she whispers back, and the words make his pounding heart skip a beat.

All this time he'd been so sure that she couldn't possibly feel the same, that there was no chance she'd ever want him the way that he wanted her. But now here she is, in his bed, staring up at him, her eyes hazy with desire and the dark waves of her hair fanned out on his pillows. Nick looks her up and down, letting his eyes linger on her curves like he always wanted to but never could. His gaze returns to her face, and he smiles softly at her before leaning in for another kiss.

Jess captures his lips once again and nudges his shoulders. Nick takes the hint and falls onto the mattress, lying back as Jess climbs over his stomach and straddles his lap. She frames his face with her hands as she kisses him, her lips unhurried against his as she slows down their almost-frantic pace. Nick can hear her struggling to catch her breath, and it sends another thrill through him to know that _he_ was the one to do that, to make her lose control. His hands slip up underneath her black top, his palms rough against the soft skin of her waist. Jess sits up suddenly and pulls off her blouse, and Nick watches with wide-eyed wonder as she unclips her bra and tosses it aside.

His palms are still on the sides of her waist, thumbs pressed up against her front and his fingers splayed out behind her back. He stares up at Jess, her tantalizingly bare skin glowing in the low light of the lamp, a slight shadow between the perfect swell of her breasts and rosy tips of her nipples. He tentatively rubs his thumb over one of them, and Jess sucks in a sharp inhale as it hardens in response. This is practically right out of his dirtiest fantasy, and for a moment he's sure that he's dreaming. But Jess' skin is too warm and solid beneath his palms for this moment to be anything but real.

"Fuck," he whispers, almost involuntarily, and lets his hands explore the soft skin of her breasts. "You're so beautiful."

Jess ducks her head down, the long curls of her hair spilling down her shoulders. "Shut up," she mutters, a light blush on her cheeks.

"I mean it, Jess," Nick insists. "You're the most amazing woman I've ever met."

She sucks in a sharp inhale of surprise. "Oh."

Nick just smiles up at her. It's the truth, and it feels good to say it out loud, now that he's allowed to. Jess reaches her hand down to cradle his jaw, her thumb tracing over the line of his cheekbone and whatever remnants of facepaint that are still there. He turns his head to press a kiss to the inside of her palm and she laughs, short and bubbly, and then leans down to kiss him again.

Her bare skin is hot against his, and her hands are everywhere; tangled up in his hair, caressing his neck, running down his chest and tracing complicated swirling patterns down his sides. Nick groans against her mouth and slides his knuckles up the ridges of her spine until he settles between her shoulder blades, pressing her down against him while his other hand strokes the sensitive skin over her hip. Jess gently scrapes her teeth over his bottom lip, and Nick instinctively jerks his hips up in response. She lets out a breathless moan and grinds down into him, breaking away from his mouth to let out a shaky exhale.

"Oh god," she whimpers, and Nick's grip on her hip tightens, his fingers digging into the upper curve of her ass. Jess presses a messy kiss to the corner of his jaw, and Nick bites back a groan as he rocks up into her again.

It's all so _real_ and sudden, and it dawns on him that this is actually happening: Jess is topless and straddling his lap as she kisses him like she means it, like she never plans on stopping. He can feel her breasts pressed against his bare chest and her ass grinding down on his dick through the few layers of clothing they still have left. Jess presses a messy line of kisses down his neck while Nick stares up at his ceiling and tries to think if he even remembers how to do this anymore.

"I'm not- _fuck_ -" he tries to explain as Jess nips at the skin over his collarbone. "I haven't... in a while." It's an embarrassing admission, and he doesn't know why he's trying to talk her out of doing this with him after he's wanted her for so long, but it would crush him if she had to lie to him about this to protect his feelings

Jess hums against his throat. "I don't care."

"I'm not..." He huffs. "I haven't _been_ with a lot of... with nearly anyone-"

"Nick," she cuts him off with a slow, deep kiss that steals his breath away. Jess pulls away after a long moment, and her eyes are dark when she whispers, "I want _you."_

He stares at her for a moment, just taking all of her in. "Okay," he finally says, and Jess smiles before kissing him again. Nick kisses her back and he rolls his weight until he's on top of her again, his hips settled in between hers as his hand steadily creeps up her thigh. She's not wearing her usual tights, and the bare skin of her leg is warm and silky smooth as he bunches her skirt up around her waist.

"The zipper's on the side," Jess says breathlessly between kisses.

"Got it," Nick murmurs back, reluctantly removing his hand from her leg to search for the zipper. He tugs at the fastening and manages to successfully pull it down, his hands only trembling slightly as he slides her skirt down past her hips until Jess kicks it the rest of the way off, leaving her in nothing but a tiny pair of purple panties. Nick's heart just might beat out of his chest as he carefully traces his fingertips over the lace just above the crease of her upper thigh.

Jess doesn't seem to notice his hesitancy, and instead reaches for his belt buckle. "Your turn," she teases as she expertly undoes his slacks and shoves them down his thighs.

Nick huffs a nervous laugh as he rolls onto the mattress beside Jess and shimmies out of his pants. She follows after him, pressed up against his side as her hand travels purposefully down past his navel to tease the sensitive skin of his lower stomach, just above the waistband of his boxer briefs. Her fingers dip below the elastic and Nick's hand automatically catches her wrist.

"Is this okay?" she asks, her brow furrowed and a worried edge to her voice.

"What?" Nick swallows, trying to calm his racing heart. "Yeah. Yeah, yes, totally."

"Nick..."

"Jess..." He sighs, letting his eyes fall closed. He presses a brief kiss to her lips and opens his eyes to look at her, trying to convey the complicated mess of feelings churning in his stomach. "I want this. I want you. I've wanted you for so long, Jess. You have no idea."

"I have _some_ idea," she says sheepishly, her gaze darting down to the erection tenting his underwear.

He groans, half embarrassment and half interest. Jess' hand is still dangerously low on his stomach, her index finger tracing tantalizing circles right at the dip of his hip bone. He slides his hand down from her wrist to entwine her fingers with his before tugging at her hand and coaxing her back on top of him. Jess sighs into his kiss, pressing their joined hands into the mattress beside his head.

Nick's free hand rests gently on her back as he kisses her, an easy rhythm of his lips against hers. He slides his hand down her stomach and between her legs, nudging aside her panties to run his fingers over her folds. She's absolutely soaking, and he can feel all of his blood rush south when he slips a finger inside of her. Jess keens into his mouth, and whatever part of Nick's brain is still capable of functioning is suddenly overwhelmed because _he's_ the one who did this. _He's_ the one who has her so worked up that she's practically drenched her panties. _He's_ the one that she wants.

Jess' hips rock up into his hand as he pushes a second finger in along with the first, and she breaks off the kiss with a moan that echoes in the tiny space of his room. She pushes his underwear down just enough to grab hold of his dick, her grip loose as she strokes him in time to the lazy thrusts of his fingers.

" _Fuck,"_ he groans, and Jess nods in frantic agreement as she lets go of him to tug his waistband down the rest of the way. Nick slips out of her and casually wipes his fingers on the lace of her panties before she pulls them off.

Jess settles back in his lap and Nick threads his hand in her hair and pulls her into a kiss. His tongue tangles up with hers, the press of their mouths desperate and needy. Nick reaches down between them and drags the head of his dick over her clit, and Jess gasps in response and rocks her hips down into him. He groans and slides himself further down to her entrance when Jess pulls away suddenly.

"Wait," she whispers. "Condom."

"Right," Nick shakes his head, feeling like an idiot. It's been a long time since he did something like this, slept with someone who wasn't only his. "Right, sorry. Nightstand."

She reaches up towards the drawer, her breasts swinging right by his face as she does. Nick can't help but mouth at her nipple, teasing it with his teeth and tongue while his hand gropes the curve of her bare ass. He can hear the sound of Jess' breath catching, and he smirks against the skin of her breast as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh.

" _Shit,"_ she whispers as she arches into him. Nick hums in agreement, sucking harder at her skin as she lets out another groan that sounds almost like " _Nick."_

Jess reappears a moment later with the foil packet in her hands, nose scrunched up as she tries to read the expiration date without her glasses. She nods, seemingly satisfied as she rips the packet open before tossing it to the side.

"All good?" he asks. His hands settle just above the cleft of her ass, thumbs pressing into the dip of her back.

"Uh huh," Jess rolls the condom on, perfunctory and efficient. "I've done this with like, a thousand cucumbers, so..."

Nick chuckles at that. It's such a _Jess_ thing to say, and even now she's still her charming, quirky self. He thinks some part of him might have been vaguely worried that things would change if they did something like this, that adding sex would make things too complicated and serious. But she's still so genuinely Jess, with her bright smile and ill-timed jokes. It makes his chest feel so much fuller, his heart stuttering in its steady rhythm as he stares up at her, and he swears that he falls a little deeper in love with her.

Jess giggles back, her hand still resting at the base of his dick. She tentatively drops her gaze down to it, a slight flush blooming over her cheeks. Her teeth sink into her lower lip, red and swollen from his kisses. Nick's throat goes dry at the way she _looks_ at him, the way her eyes darken as her tongue darts out to swipe over her lips. Jess wraps her hand around the base of his dick and gives him a slow stroke. Nick lets out a low moan, and Jess smirks as she leans in to kiss the hollow of his throat and up to his ear.

"Yeah?" she says, her voice low and sultry in a way that makes his hips buck up into her fist.

"Fuck," he groans as she tightens her grip. " _Jess."_

He can feel her smile against his neck before she nips at the corner of his jaw. "You feel really good," she whispers softly, almost too shy to say it.

" _Fuck,"_ he curses again, because damn if he hasn't fantasized this exact scenario more times than he can count.

He turns his head to kiss her again, and Jess resettles in his lap before slowly lowering herself down onto him. Nick slides his hands down to grip her hips, fingers digging into the muscles of her thighs as she bottoms out. Jess makes this soft little noise when she does, and it's probably the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Jess' eyes flutter shut as she tentatively rocks her hips, her palms flat on his chest while Nick holds her steady.

Nick thrusts up into her on the next downstroke, and the moan she makes in response is so fucking amazing that he can't help but do it again. They start up a good rhythm, moving in sync and Nick can feel himself slowly careening towards the edge. He slides one of his hands down to rub at her clit, and Jess moans again as she picks up the pace.

" _Fuck, Nick,"_ she sighs, her head thrown back as she grinds down onto him. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck."_

It sends a thrill down his spine, because he's almost never seen her lose control like this. He rubs even harder at her clit, and Jess' face screws up in pleasure as she bounces up and down on his dick, getting closer and closer until she clenches tight around him, letting out a low whine as she comes. Nick follows right after her, his grip tight on her hips and her name tumbling out of his mouth as he hits his own release.

Jess slumps down onto him, her head resting against the curve of his shoulder as she struggles to catch her breath. Nick presses a few lazy kisses to her sweat-slicked neck, feeling the post-sex fog clouding his brain. She lets out one last sigh before rolling over to lie next to him, and Nick lazily tugs his blanket over the both of them.

He stares up at the ceiling, trying to sort out his reeling thoughts. _They did it. They really did it. And it was really, really fucking good. Or it least it was for him. He thinks it was good for her too; he's pretty sure at least._ His jaw is still hanging open a little, equal parts from shock and from trying to regain control over his breathing. A smile tugs at his mouth as it really dawns on him. _They did it. This is the start of something, and he's not quite sure what it is yet, but he's got a really great feeling about it._

Jess lets out this soft little giggle beside him as she reaches her hand up to brush aside her bangs. Nick turns to look at her, not even trying to hold back his grin as he looks at her, and they both laugh a little, not at anything in particular, just from the general sense of happiness coming over them. He turns back to face the ceiling, trying to figure out what he's supposed to say, but he can't seem to find the right words. Nick looks back at Jess, hoping that she has any idea of what to do next, but she just laughs again, a nervous little chuckle.

"I'm..." she tries, before faltering. "I'm gonna run to the loo."

"Okay," Nick replies. He watches as she tentatively crawls out of bed, admiring the smooth curve of her figure as she picks up one of his discarded flannels from the floor. She disappears out of the bedroom a moment later, the door clicking shut behind her.

Nick discards the used condom and then lies back on the bed, his hands resting on the top of his head as he tries to formulate a game plan. A few minutes pass without her return, and it dawns on him that she might have escaped back to her own room now that she's fully processed what a huge mistake they just made. He lets his eyes fall shut and tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut and the little voice of doubt in the back of his head that whispers, _I told you so._

Then his door opens and Jess reappears in the doorframe, silencing his fears.

"Can I spend the night?" she whispers.

"Yes," he answers without hesitation.

Jess smiles and shuts the door behind her. She flips off his lamp before tugging off his shirt and crawling back underneath the covers. Nick tentatively wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him, pressing a light kiss to her neck as she spoons up against him. He buries his face in the sweet-smelling cloud of her hair as his eyes slowly drift shut, letting the steady rhythm of Jess' breathing lull him to sleep.

 _I love you_ , he tells her, keeping the words trapped inside his head, at least for now.


	34. See ya

Jess wakes up slowly, tiredly blinking her eyes open to the early morning light filtering through the window. It takes her a moment to realize that the wall she's staring at isn't hers, and another second to recognize the dress shirts and suits hanging up in the closet as Nick's. A small smile tugs at her lips at the memory of last night, and her eyelids slowly droop shut.

It all still feels like a dream. Part of her isn't entirely convinced that this is real. But Nick's sheets are soft against her bare skin, the sleeping bag he uses as a comforter tucked around her shoulders. She can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing just behind her and feel the warm weight of his arm slung over her waist.

Jess has been dreaming and hoping for this moment for so long, and she's still trying to wrap her head around the fact that it actually happened. And _oh boy,_ did it happen. She'd imagined that it would be good, all those times she couldn't help but let her gaze linger on the exposed skin of his chest when he would undo the top buttons of his buttondowns or the way he filled out a pair of dress slacks, all those times when she knew she _shouldn't_ be imagining him but did anyways, all those dreams where she wondered how it would feel to have his hands and mouth on her skin. But it was nothing close to the real thing: the way he set her skin on fire, the slick taste of his mouth pressed to hers, the feel of him between her thighs and his tight grip on her hips as she rocked down onto him. Even just the lingering memory sends a shiver down her spine.

She sighs a little and settles into the bed, _his_ bed, already feeling exhaustion start to get the best of her as she slowly drifts back to sleep. A few moments pass and she can feel Nick's arm gently lift off her waist. Her heart sinks for a few seconds, and she wonders if he's leaving now that he's realized the mistake he just made, if he's already begun to second-guess their relationship, or whatever this is between them, before it even begins. But then her fears disappear as he lightly brushes his fingers over her shoulder, followed by the soft press of his lips against the same spot.

"Fantastico," Nick mutters under his breath, and her smile grows a fraction wider. Jess decides to feign sleep for just a little while longer, hoping that he'll pull her back into his arms and they can linger in bed together for the rest of the quiet, lazy morning.

The mattress dips as Nick shifts in bed before placing two of his fingers over Jess' neck. She slowly turns to face him, brow furrowed in confusion. Nick looks a little guilty, like she just caught him in the act of doing something he's not supposed to, and she giggles after a moment of realization. "Were you checking my pulse?"

Nick ducks his head, a sheepish smile on his face. "You were very still."

Jess giggles again, and Nick looks back at her face with a grin of his own. She feels so _happy_ , and she can't help but laugh a little, not at anything in particular, but just because her chest feels so full and light that it just bubbles out of her. Nick seems to feel the same way, and he's absolutely beaming down at her from where he's perched up on one elbow.

"So, that happened," he says with a chuckle and Jess laughs again, her cheeks already aching from smiling so hard.

His hand rests on her ribcage, warm and solid against her bare skin as his thumb idly strokes the skin just under the curve of her breast. She slides her hand up his chest, her fingertips teasing his collarbone. Nick stares at her, his eyes soft as they travel over her features. He lingers on her lips for a moment before leaning in to kiss her, and Jess smiles against his mouth, her hand draped over his shoulder.

Nick kisses her without any rush, like they've got all the time in the world, and there's nothing he wants to do other than spend it right here with her, kissing her until she melts into the bed. His lips are soft against hers, stealing her breath away as he kisses her slow and deep. Jess winds her hand up into his hair, the locks just a bit too long. She's been bugging him about getting it cut for almost a week now, trying to get him to take care of it now before it becomes a completely unruly mess. And with that line of thought she remembers that it's _Nick_ that she's kissing, and she can't fight the resulting smile that blooms on her lips.

After a moment he breaks away from the kiss, smiling as he looks down at her. His thumb trails over her cheek before settling behind her jaw, fingers threading through her hair as he kisses her again. She knows that this is probably some kind of serious moment and that you can't kiss with your teeth, but she just can't stop smiling. Nick pulls away again, and she's about to apologize when she realizes he's also grinning, lopsided and genuine, and that gooey, infectiously happy feeling in her chest doubles.

Jess giggles, her teeth grazing over her lower lip, already sensitive from Nick's kisses. She tries to think of something serious, some sexy, not-funny thought in an attempt to regain her composure. But then she looks into Nick's dark brown eyes, shimmering with the same affection and happiness that she can feel in every cell of her body, and there's no stopping the laugh that just bubbles out of her. He smiles as he presses sloppy kisses underneath her jaw and down to her collarbone, and Jess wraps her arms around his neck and holds him close, staring up at the ceiling as she giggles and squirms underneath him.

Nick looks up at her, grinning like an idiot, and Jess coaxes him on top. He settles between her thighs, his bare skin warm against hers as he presses her down into the mattress. His hand slips up to palm her breast, and she can feel the curve of his smile when he leans in to kiss her again. Jess hums and lets her eyes drift shut as she kisses him back. Nick nudges her chin back to kiss her neck, and Jess lets out another breathy laugh, and she hopes that he knows she isn't laughing at _him,_ but that she's just so impossibly happy that she doesn't know what to do with all this excess energy.

" _Oh,"_ she sighs as he nips at a sensitive bit of skin on her neck. " _Nick."_

"Shit," Nick breathes, pushing up on his elbows so he's hovering above her. His eyes dart all over her face and body in a way that would make her self conscious if it wasn't for the smile slowly blooming over his face. "You're so gorgeous, Jess."

Jess can feel her cheeks heating up at his comment, and she bites down on her lower lip to hold back her smile. She glances up at him through her eyelashes and pulls him down into a kiss, her lips gliding slowly over his as she rolls her hips up into him. She can feel his morning wood pressing up against her. A shudder runs through her at the feel of him between her legs, hard and aching for her. Nick groans against her mouth and deepens the kiss as they rock against each other.

The mattress dips again as Nick shifts his weight onto one elbow, the other reaching for his nightstand to grab a condom. He fumbles with it just a few seconds too long, and Jess dimly remembers that this isn't what he's used to and wonders if she's the only woman he's been with since Caroline. It sets off a little spark of worry, but she just shoves it down to think about later and instead focuses on the moment.

"You need any help?" she asks as she starts to prop herself up on her elbows.

"No, I got it," he mutters.

Nick's frowning in grumpy concentration, and Jess leans up to press a kiss to one of the downturned corners of his lips. He looks up at her in surprise, frown melting away into a soft smile. Then he ducks his head and kisses her back, barely brushing their mouths together.

"Hey," Nick whispers after he reluctantly pulls away from her mouth.

"Hey," Jess says with a giggle.

Nick smiles at her again, big and bright. "I really like, ya, Jess," he says quietly, voice tentative in a way that makes Jess' heart ache.

"I like you, too," Jess says, and the look on Nick's face knocks the wind out of her, leaving her breathless as her heart thumps erratically in her chest. She shifts her hips underneath him and Nick carefully lines himself up before sliding into her.

Jess sighs and drapes her hands over his shoulders, her head tilted back to look up at the ceiling of his room. Nick's room. _Nick_. Another ridiculous smile spreads over her face, and she knows that she's probably being horribly rude, but then Nick _(Nick!)_ rocks his hips and she lets out a gasp that trails off into a breathless almost-giggle. She's about to apologize but then Nick presses a kiss just below her jaw and thrusts again. Jess can feel him smiling against her neck and she giggles as she tilts her hips up to get a better angle, toes curling when he hits that spot in her that's just right. He lets out his own faint huff of a laugh, his hand sliding back into her hair, both arms still braced on the mattress.

"Nick," she moans, her lips still in a half-smile. "That's- that's- _yeah..."_

" _God, Jess."_

Nick fucks her slow and easy, grinning against her skin as he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all down the curve of her neck and shoulder. Jess clings to his shoulders and smiles as he builds her up to her orgasm, rocking her hips up into his as she gets closer and closer. He slips a hand down to rub at her clit, and she takes in a sharp inhale and then gasps, " _Oh, fuck, Nick."_

" _Shit, Jess,"_ he groans, his fingers tightening their grip on her hair as he comes, and Jess tumbles right after him.

Afterwards Nick slowly lowers the rest of his weight on top of her, his skin slick and hot against hers as he tries to catch his breath. Jess lets out a shaky exhale and then looks at him, and doesn't even try to fight the huge grin that spreads over her face.

"Well," Nick says hesitantly, still smiling at her. "That was really fun."

Jess tosses her head back and laughs again, because it's so perfectly, awkwardly _Nick_ , and she's so happy she just might float away. Maybe there's a Helium leak in here or something, at least that would explain why her head feels dizzy, she can't seem to catch her breath, and how she can't stop giggling at every tiny thing. Nick laughs with her and presses a kiss to the side of her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. Jess bites down on her lower lip and looks over at him, so genuinely happy she thinks she's going to burst.

"So, what do we do now?" she asks, hoping he'll know the answer.

Nick looks at her, his eyes a complicated mix of serious and joking. "Is it weird that I wanna buy you a lobster dinner?"

"Well you'd have to wait until tonight," she says, still smiling. "I don't know of any places that serve lobster dinner for brunch."

Jess moves her hand and traces the lines of his face. Her fingers brush over the faint creases at the corner of his eye, down the slope of his cheekbone, and underneath his jaw, rough with a few days of stubble. When she gets to his mouth he puckers his lips to kiss the pad of her thumb, and Jess giggles again. Nick catches her wrist, grinning wide as he kisses her palm and wrist before twining their fingers together.

"I'm serious, Jess," Nick says, despite the grin on his face.

Her heart stutters at that, and she genuinely wonders how it's possible to feel this happy. Honestly, she can't figure out why she had been so worried about this, how she managed to convince herself that Nick didn't care about her like that, or that they would never work together. Well, she knows they work well in _bed,_ but she has to admit that there's a pretty big part of her that's still worried about what will happen to them once they leave Nick's room and go back into the "real world."

And speaking of, Jess glances over at his alarm clock, her stomach sinking when she realizes that she barely has enough time to shower if she wants to get to school on time. The students might have the day off, but it's a Teacher Workday, so she's in for a long day of grading papers and writing lesson plans.

"I have to leave for work," she says. She leans in to kiss him before making a half-hearted attempt to squirm out from underneath Nick.

"No..." he groans and rests his full weight onto her, pinning Jess down into the mattress.

Jess laughs. "Nick..."

"Call in sick," he mumbles, his face pressed into her hair.

"I _can't,"_ she counters, lazily running her fingers through his hair. "I have to go."

Nick props his chin up on her chest, mouth turned down in a pout. "Jess, please. Stay here. I'll make you breakfast and then we'll nap for a while and maybe do a little more than nap..." He adds a little wink, and that along with the hopeful tone in his words makes Jess' heartrate pick up again as she smiles at him. Nick absentmindedly plays with their joined hands. "And then tonight I'll take you out for that dinner date."

She wants to. _God,_ does she want to. It's so incredibly tempting to just stay here in bed with Nick all day, lazing around over home-cooked brunch and sex and talking about everything and nothing as they meander from topic to topic. It'd be just like any other night at the loft, only with a lot less clothes and a lot more making out. And maybe they could figure all this out, put a label on whatever _this_ is. Really, she could call out sick and get her paperwork done later today or catch up this weekend. But then again, if she's with Nick then she _definitely_ won't be able to get any work done.

"I-" she starts, but she's interrupted by her phone ringing over on the nightstand. "That's probably my alarm," she explains needlessly, and Nick groans as he reluctantly rolls off of her so she can reach it, his grumpy turtle frown in full effect.

Jess laughs as she gets the phone, and her brow furrows when she realizes that it's not her alarm. "It's my dad?" she says to Nick, more of a question than an actual statement. "Hello?"

"Jess! It's your father!" he says excitedly on the other line, despite the fact that she knows he knows that everyone has caller ID these days. "I need you to pick me up from the airport!"

"Hey, Dad," she replies, looking over at Nick in confusion. "What's going on?"

"I'm in LA," Bob explains excitedly. "I'm doing some testimony for this legal case or whatever. But they flew me out to LA, and I thought it'd be perfect to see my baby girl."

"Dad, that's great, and I'd love to, but I have to get to work," Jess says, trying to focus on what her dad is saying instead of the warm weight of Nick's arm around her waist as he presses soft kisses to her shoulder. "I can meet you afterwards for dinner..."

Nick's face falls slightly at that, and he rolls back onto his side of the bed. Jess' stomach sinks, because this is the last thing she wanted to happen to them. They haven't even been together for 24 hours, and the real world is already trying to break them up.

"Oh, so you're going to make your own father take a cab instead of driving out to meet me?" her dad counters mock-grumpily.

"No." Jess rolls her eyes up to the ceiling and does her best to hold back a groan. "It's not like that..."

"What's wrong?" Nick whisper-asks.

"Hold on for a second, Dad." Jess covers the end of the receiver with her hand and whispers back, "My dad wants me to pick him up from the airport, but if I do, I'll be late for work."

Nick hums in thought. "I'll do it."

"Really?" she says in surprise.

"Yeah," Nick smiles at her. "Tran won't mind me being a little late as long as I'm in time for my afternoon meeting."

"Oh, you're the best," Jess says with a grin. She leans in to give him a quick kiss before pulling away to talk into the phone. "Hey, Dad? You still there?"

"What's that? Are you done being too busy to spend quality time with your father?" he says in what Jess is pretty sure is his signature deadpan humor. At least she hopes it is. "I won't be around forever, you know."

Jess pointedly ignores his comment. "Dad, I have to get to work, but I'll see you right after I get off. My friend Nick is going to give you a ride from the airport. He should be there in just a little bit."

"Well, alright," her dad concedes. "But he better not keep me waiting."

She rolls her eyes again. "Bye, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too."

Jess hangs up the phone and drops her head down onto the pillow. What are the chances that after months of nothing happening, the night that she and Nick _finally_ got together would coincide perfectly with her dad making a surprise trip to LA. It all feels like a bad sitcom plot, and part of her wishes someone would walk around the corner to end the scene so she could go back to her perfect day with Nick.

"So I guess you really do have to get going," Nick says with reluctantly. He's absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair. There's nothing she wants more than to stay here with him, but she can't.

"Yeah. I guess so," Jess sighs, rubbing her thumb over his jaw.

His stubble is rough against her skin, and she dimly wonders if he left any marks on her. She's torn because she wants this moment to linger on her skin and make her remember the way Nick felt against her. But she doesn't want to cover up and pretend like nothing happened just because they have to move off into their 'adult' lives. But then again, they're Nick and Jess. They can make this work.

After a few more seconds of ignoring their inevitable responsibilities, they reluctantly get out of bed. There's an awkward moment as they linger in his room, pulling on clothes they'll change out of in just a few minutes. Nick politely lets her have the first shower, and Jess can hear him brushing his teeth just around the other side of the shower curtain as she washes her hair. It's weirdly domestic in a way that thrills and terrifies her at the same time. It kicks up this complicated nervous feeling in her gut, and makes her want to grab on to his arm and pull him in with her, kissing frantically underneath the spray of water and ignoring all the responsibilities impatiently waiting for them. But then Nick shuts off the sink and leaves the bathroom, and Jess rinses out her hair and tries to calm the steady pounding of her heart.

He kisses her before he leaves, all dressed up in one of his nicer work suits with his face freshly shaven. She pretends not to notice the difference, and she wonders if he's trying to make a good impression on her dad. Nick smells like aftershave and mouthwash, and his mouth is soft against hers in a way that makes her eyes flutter shut and sends a shiver down her spine. Jess lets the kiss linger just a moment too long, his hand resting at the small of her back. It makes her painfully aware that she's barely wearing anything under this robe, and that all he would have to do is pull the belt loose and push her up against the wall of the hallway. She thinks about luring him back into her bedroom and not leaving for the rest of the day.

But instead Nick pulls away and shifts his grip on the handle of his briefcase. "I'll see you tonight," he says with a smile, and then gives her another quick kiss on the cheek.

Jess smiles back, arms crossed over her chest as she watches him go. "I'll see ya."

The door to the loft shuts behind him and Jess turns back to her room, a complicated storm brewing in the pit of her stomach.

 _We're Nick and Jess,_ she reminds herself. _We're going to be fine._


	35. Great minds think alike

Nick drives to the airport feeling on top of the world. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and things with Jess couldn't be any more _perfect_. He whistles along to the jaunty tune on the radio and taps his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the beat of whatever overly-peppy Top 40s song is playing.

Jess is amazing and incredible and, despite all the odds, she likes him in a way he has always hoped she would. This morning had felt like a dream. When he woke up with her in his arms and she'd smiled at him, brilliantly bright in the early morning sun filtering through his window, he knew deep in his heart that he wanted this for the rest of his life. It's taking all of his willpower not to jump headfirst into this, but his mind has been spinning ever since he got out of bed, wondering how soon was too soon to say "I love you."

Some part of his brain wants to panic over all of this, to say that he's going too fast and needs to pump the brakes, that just because they had a perfect night and morning together doesn't mean that things will all work out without any other stumbling blocks. It's weird because he's so used to panicking in these kinds of situations, freaking out over unknowns and stressing over every minute detail. But whenever it starts to feel like the future is this terrifying, scary blur that he wants to micromanage the hell out of just to regain some sense of control, he just imagines Jess by his side, and the rest fades away.

He pulls into the parking lot and double-checks the series of texts Jess sent him with all the details about her dad. In a perfect twist of cosmic coincidence, Bob Day is in town to offer a testimony for the very case that Nick's been working on. Apparently Bob was a foreman for a Deschanel manufacturing plant in Oregon, as well as a long-term acquaintance of Tran. Not a day goes by that Nick isn't surprised by his mentor and his seemingly endless sprawling map of connections.

Nick puts the car in park and sends a quick text to Jess. " _Just got to airport. Heading in now."_

Jess' response comes a few seconds later. " _Great! Thank you!"_ followed by three cartoon hearts.

He smiles at the message on his screen. Jess has always been liberal with her use of the little phone-cartoon things, but there's still something about seeing them directed towards him, especially after spending the night together, that makes Nick's heart skip a beat. He double-checks his tie and hair in the rearview mirror before getting out of the car. It's not like he's asking Jess' father for his blessing, but it'd be nice to leave a good first impression with the man. In case, you know, he did happen to want his blessing a few years down the road.

And before he has a chance to overanalyze that train of thought, Nick forces himself to get out of the car. He lets the door slam shut behind him with a resounding thud.

"Hello, Mr. Day?" he practices under his breath. "Nick Miller, pleasure to meet you. I'm Jess'..."

His voice trails off at the end, and he slows to an impromptu stop in his trek across the parking lot. _What is he?_ This is all so new, and they barely had the time to get ready this morning, let alone figure out the terminology for what _this_ is. "Boyfriend" feels too formal, and if he's honest, a little like he's back in junior high. He and Jess haven't even discussed the fact that they slept together, let alone had the boyfriend-girlfriend conversation, a conversation that he, quite frankly, would love to have.

Then the good old Miller self-doubt machine kicks into high gear, filling him up with a queasy, nervous feeling that makes sweat start to pool at his lower back. _What if that's not what she wants?_ It's one thing to be that presumptuous and overstep with her dad, but even worse than that, he'd hate to introduce himself as Jess' boyfriend only to have the rug pulled out from underneath him when Jess admits she doesn't feel the same way about him. But there was that moment this morning when she looked up at him, her blue eyes soft with affection and her grin fucking luminescent when she whispered, " _I like you, too."_ That had been real, hadn't it? Above anything else, he has to believe in that.

So if boyfriend is out of the question, what does that leave him with? Lover? Sweetheart? Hookup? Bootycall?

" _It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Day. My name is Nick Miller, and I'm in love with your daughter."_

Yeah right. He might be crazy for Jess, but he doesn't have a death wish. He can't even imagine what his own response would be if twenty-odd years from now some riff-raff excuse of a man tried to introduce himself like that in regards to Abbi.

So maybe discretion is his best move here. He'll keep things under wraps for now, and then one day they'll all laugh about this at his and Jess' wedding. _Woah, slow your roll there, Miller. I thought we were taking this slow._

Nick sighs and gives himself a slap on each cheek to focus up before walking through the automatic sliding doors of the airport.

* * *

Bob Day is a bit of a curmudgeon, and he tries to give Nick directions on the drive to the office, even though he's never been to LA before. But he's also got a great sense of humor and reasonably good taste in baseball teams. They bicker good-naturedly about coaching and managerial styles on the drive to the law office. They agree to disagree on the ideal batting lineup for their fake baseball dream team and are both in relatively good spirits when Nick finally pulls into the parking lot. He doesn't want to jinx it, but Nick's feeling pretty confident about how things are going between them as he ushers the other man inside.

There's still a little while before their meeting starts, so they kill time in Nick's office, chatting over coffee that one of the interns brings them from the place across the street. Bob orders his black with no sugar or cream or 'those unnecessary frills you kids like,' and Nick nods in approval and gets the same.

"So, how do you know my daughter, again?" Bob asks as he sips at his coffee.

"She's my daughter's teacher. And..." Nick hesitates for a moment. "We live together," he says in a rather forced attempt at casual. Bob raises a questioning eyebrow. "No, no, not like that. It's a loft apartment with two other guys."

Bob still doesn't seem impressed. "Jess told me she was sharing a loft. Can't say I'm too pleased about my daughter living with three strange men. But what's a good guy in his thirties doing living in an apartment with three roommates?" he asks dryly.

Nick hesitates, wondering how much of his incredibly messy sob story of a life he wants to lay out for the other man. "My ex-wife and I had a bit of a... an impromptu separation, and Schmidt offered to let me crash at his place. Then I moved in permanently after the divorce."

"Divorce, huh?" Bob nods in sympathy. "That's always tough, especially with kids."

"Yeah." Nick fiddles with the cardboard sleeve around his coffee cup. "I'd like to think that things are better now. Caroline and I just, we weren't really happy together, and it took us a while to realize that. It's what's best for Abbi in the long run."

Bob takes a contemplative sip of his coffee. "I hear you. Sometimes people are better apart than they are together. That's how it was with my ex-wife Joan. We were always fighting, and not the good kind. And it was tough on Jess and her sister, but they grew into it. Took Jess a while longer, she kept trying to Parent Trap us, but she eventually understood."

"Jess has a sister?"

"Oh, yeah. Real wildcard. Takes after her father." Bob chuckles. "Abby's up in Portland now with her mother, but Jess had to pick her up from jail about a month ago."

"Jess told me she had a teaching conference." Nick's brow furrows.

Bob shrugs and leans back in his seat. "Doesn't surprise me. Jess has always been a little embarrassed about her sister. Shame, really."

Nick frowns. Is there other stuff Jess is too embarrassed to tell him? No. She's an open book. It's his fault that he didn't ask more about her family. Besides, now isn't the time to worry about this.

"Is this your daughter?" Bob asks, pointing towards one of the pictures on Nick's desk.

"Yep, that's Abbi," Nick says, smiling down at the photo.

"Good name."

"Great minds and all that." Nick laughs.

Bob nods in approval. "I'm sure she's a real sweetheart."

"Oh, absolutely," Nick says proudly. "Best in her class. Didn't get that from me, though."

"Don't be so tough on yourself, kid."

"Mr. Miller? Mr. Day?" One of the other interns knocks on the partially open door to the office. "They're ready for you in the conference room."

* * *

The meeting goes off without a hitch, and they get exactly the information they need to round out their case. Bob gets along with him so well that it feels weirdly natural to pick his brain for information that supports their argument. Tran has his approving smile on the whole time, taking notes in his Korean shorthand while Nick leads the interview. Things go so well that Tran passes over his corporate credit card and insists the two of them go off to have a nice lunch on the firm's dime.

About halfway through his burger, Bob interrupts Nick mid-question. "Alright, alright, enough business talk! I'll go crazy if I have to hear one more word about manufacturing contracts. Tell me more about you. You got a girl?"

Nick nearly chokes on an ill-timed bite of his fries. The last thing he needs to do is talk to Bob about his complicated relationship with the man's daughter, especially the day after he and Jess had sex for the first time. "What, me? No. No no no."

"Seriously?" Bob says in disbelief. "A good-looking guy like you? It'd seem like women would just flock to you."

 _Yeah, right._ "No, no, it's not like that."

"C'mon, we're outside of the office, and you're a good guy. You don't have to be so modest. Let's talk about you and girls!"

"I don't want to talk about this," Nick says insistently. "This isn't something we should talk about, Bob! Trust me."

Bob holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, gee whiz, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I brought it up."

An awkward silence falls over the table. Nick looks down at his plate as he digs his straw around in his water. He must be feeling pretty self-destructive, because instead of letting the conversation move on to something else, he tempts fate by saying, "All right. There's a girl."

Bob gives him a knowing look. "Yes. There is, see? I told you. There's always a girl."

Nick smiles and ducks his head. "You're right," he admits sheepishly.

"Come on," Bob goads him on. "What's she like?"

"She's..." Nick hesitates, trying to stay calm and not give himself away. "Not quirky. She's got no bangs. Uh, tall and fat. Really ugly eyes. Small, tiny, little beady eyes."

Bob frowns a little at him and sips at his beer. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Her name is, uh..." he clears his throat nervously. "Yolanda Winston."

"Yolanda Winston," Bob repeats, trying out the name. "Sounds like a nice girl."

"Yeah. She really is," Nick smiles again, his thoughts drifting back to the memory of being with Jess this morning. Even just thinking about her brings a smile to his face. "This girl really means a lot to me, Bob. And, if I'm being honest, I'm a little afraid."

"You are?"

Nick shrugs. "I mean, I'm a divorcee with a kid who lives with three roommates. Baggage City. Any girl in their right mind would take one look at me and go running for the hills. What makes me good enough for her?"

"Wow, you really don't go easy on yourself, do you, kid?" Bob says. "Look, you find the right girl, all that stuff doesn't matter."

"I just..." Nick sighs. "I already screwed up one marriage, who's to say I won't do it again?"

"Why are you so sure that you're gonna screw up again?" Bob asks before taking another bite of his burger.

"Well, I don't want to make excuses, but my dad was a real piece of work. I spent nearly my entire life trying to do better than he did. I was actually there for my ma and my brother when he wasn't. I went to college and built up a good career. I supported my own family and made sure Caroline and Abbi never had to worry about a thing. But look where I am now: following right in his footsteps." Nick takes a long drink of his water before admitting, "I'm afraid I'm a lot like him."

Bob leans in towards him, his face serious. "The mere fact that you just said that means that you're nothing like your old man. Any girl would be lucky to have a guy like you."

It's crazy, because they literally met this morning, but there's something about Bob that makes Nick want to trust him. He's not sure how people get podcasts, but if there's anyone who deserves one, it's him. "You really mean that?"

Bob nods again. He polishes off the rest of his beer before leaning in to mock-whisper conspiratorially, "Now, you wanna hear some embarrassing stories about Jess?"

"Oh, I am _all ears,"_ Nick laughs.

* * *

After lunch they both go back to the office to get a little more work done on the case while Bob's still around to offer his input in person. Bob helps him sort though his notes, pointing out a couple of connections Nick hadn't noticed. They're making pretty good progress until Tran calls Bob into his office for a one-on-one meeting.

Nick switches over to some other legal briefs and tries to make a sizeable dent in his never-ending mountain of paperwork. Eventually he gets sucked into the legal jargon and his eyes strain to make out the tiny scribbles of Tran's handwriting. He must really be getting old if he already needs reading glasses. Nick looks up from his document and blinks in an attempt to get his eyes to refocus when he notices what looks like Jess lingering in the hallway.

He jumps up from his desk and leans out the door of his office. "Jess?"

Jess spins around and looks startled, even though she knows he works here. It shouldn't be a surprise to see him at his own law office. "Oh, hey, Nick," she says, smiling nervously at him as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

He grins at her, taking in the pretty blue sundress dress she's wearing and how it contrasts with the faint blush on her cheeks. It's probably ridiculous, but he'd missed her, even if it's only been a few hours since they last saw each other. He glances around the hall before tugging her into his office.

"Nick!" she gasps as he pulls her into his arms until she's pressed right up against him. Jess' breath catches when she realizes where she is, and Nick smiles down at her before kissing her. She sighs into the kiss, her hands resting on the front of his suit jacket as she steps up on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his. Nick slides his hand up her back and into her hair, holding her close to him.

After a few seconds they break away. This is a working office and Jess' dad is literally just around the corner. But he still lets his touch linger, his hands gently placed on either side of her waist as she settles back down onto the ground.

"Hey," he says quietly, afraid to break the moment. "I missed you."

Jess blushes. "I missed you, too," she whispers back, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Nick grins at her, his heart melting inside of his chest. He gives her another quick peck. Jess smiles against his lips and lets out a soft little giggle when he pulls away.

Her mood shifts slightly. She drops her gaze down to his chest and fusses with his tie. "How did things go with my dad?"

"Good."

"Really?" Jess asks, surprised. "Did you tell him about…?"

"No," Nick admits tentatively. "I mean, we hadn't talked about... So I didn't want to make any assumptions."

"Right." Jess has a slight frown on her face, her hands nervously playing with his tie and the collar of his shirt. "Right, no, that makes sense. Thanks for doing that. Lying, I mean. Not that you're lying. But kinda, sorta. I know it's still a little complicated, and I don't really know or think I know what's..."

Nick catches her hands with his, and Jess cuts off from her rambling to look up at him. "Hey, things went fine. I even think he might like me."

"Okay." Jess lets out a long exhale, her nervous energy dissipates.

He presses a kiss to the back of each of her hands before reluctantly letting them go and taking a half-step away from her. "Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?"

"Dad and I are getting dinner," Jess explains. She pulls her phone out of her purse to check the time, and then types out a quick message.

"I guess I'll have to take a raincheck on that lobster dinner, then," Nick jokes as he shoves his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, leaning a little further away from Jess.

He's not even sure why he suggested it this morning, but there was something about it that felt right to him. He doesn't want this to be a one-night stand, a lapse in judgment that they would try to forget ever happened and try to 'move on' from. There might be a whole lot in his life that he's unsure about, but Jess sure as hell isn't one of them. He doesn't want to freak her out and scare her off though, so for now he'll settle for a dinner date, a _real_ dinner date.

Jess raises her head up from her phone, and it makes a little _click_ noise when she shuts it off. Her voice is sad when she says, "I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," he says dismissively, trying to hide the hurt in his tone. He should've known that Jess didn't feel the same way towards him. He's been lucky enough with her, anything else is just him being needlessly selfish, taking up her time which he doesn't have any right to.

"My dad's crashing on our couch tonight, but he sleeps like a log. So if you wanted to... I dunno." Jess ducks her head again, seemingly embarrassed at her request as she tucks her hair back behind her ear again. "You could sneak over to my room?"

"Yes," Nick says too quickly, and he dimly realizes that he should probably be a little less eager. "I mean, yeah. I think I could make that work."

Jess giggles and bites down on her lower lip. Nick's heart stutters in his chest, and he almost feels like he's back in junior high, trying to ask out the cute girl at school but too nervous and awkward to actually do it.

"And um." Jess fidgets with the strap of her purse. "I'm free tomorrow night. For dinner."

"Okay. Yeah. Cool. Totally."

 _God, it really is like junior high. C'mon Miller, stop making a complete fool out of yourself just because a pretty girl is talking to you._

Jess stares at him for a moment, a slight smile on her face. Then she clears her throat and glances down at her phone again. "I should probably find my dad."

"Yeah." Nick gives his head a little shake to focus. "I'm pretty sure he's with Tran." He opens his office door and ushers her into the hallway.

Tran's door is already half open, and Nick raps his knuckles against the door to let the other men know they're here.

"Jess! There you are!" Bob says, standing up from his seat to pull his daughter into a hug. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Good to see you too, Dad," Jess replies.

Bob lets go of her to rest his hand on her shoulder and glances over between Tran and Nick. "Well, I think I'm all wrapped up here. Right, fellas?"

Tran nods and Nick agrees, "Yep. Thank you so much for coming in. This is really great for our case."

"Happy to do it," Bob says, giving Jess' arm another squeeze.

Jess smiles, and the expression only looks slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I've got dinner reservations, so we better get going, Dad."

"And I've got a good bit of work to do still," Nick says politely. He looks over to Jess, and her eyes soften when she catches his gaze. "I'll see you at home, Jess."

"Bye, Nick." Jess smiles at him, her blue eyes sparkling. Bob glances between the two of them, and Nick swears that there's a gleam of recognition in his eyes.

Bob and Jess leave a few minutes later. After they've cleared out, Nick turns back to Tran who gives him one of his significant looks.

"Would you settle down, you perv?" Nick says quickly. "There's nothing going on."

Tran lifts one skeptical eyebrow.

"I've got case notes to look at," he mutters before ducking out of the office, purposefully ignoring the way Tran stares knowingly after him as he goes.

* * *

Later that night Jess locks herself in her room trying to finish up her last-minute grading. That leaves Nick to hang out with Bob. Nick sits on the couch with Bob, and they watch a football game over a couple of beers. He feels like he can finally relax. Things with Jess are finally going right, he's made good headway on his case, and he has Bob's tentative approval. It gives him just enough false confidence to let his guard down. When the game cuts to the halftime show he thinks to himself, _what the hell._

"It's Jess."

"Who is?" Bob looks over at him, clearly confused.

Nick chuckles a little, looking down at his bottle of beer. "That girl I was telling you about at lunch. Her name's not Yolanda Winston. I just made that up because I was worried about what you would think." He lets out an exhale, and it feels so good to say it out loud, far better than he expected. "I'm in love with your daughter."

Bob doesn't say anything. He stares blankly at Nick for several long seconds before silently getting up off the couch. The calm mood of the evening is broken. Nick can hear panic alarms screaming in his ears as he gets up to follow the other man as he stalks towards the kitchen, his hands balled up into fists.

"Wait!" Nick says placatingly. "Bob, c'mon! I thought we were having a moment!" He stands on the opposite side of the kitchen island as he watches Bob riffle through their various drawers, digging through the contents, and then slamming them shut in frustration when they don't have whatever it is he's looking for.

"Where are the knives?" Bob says tersely, looking around the kitchen counters with a dangerous fire in his eyes.

"Woah!" Nick throws his hands up in the air in surrender. "Okay, maybe I was going too fast. I just wanted to say that I care about Jess, and we're starting a relationship and-"

"Like hell you will!" Bob jabs his newly acquired knife in Nick's direction. "You'd be a dead son of a bitch, I'll tell you that!"

Nick swallows nervously and raises his hands a fraction higher. "Bob, I can explain..."

"Hey, Dad! I scrounged up some spare linens for you. There is this kinda odd stain on the corner of the bedsheet, but if you squint it almost looks like the state of Maryland, so really that's more of an added bonus, I'd say." Jess announces from the hall. "Did you need any-" She rounds the corner to the living room with a bundle of sheets in her arms and drops them down on the couch. Then she looks up, her eyes widening as she takes in the dramatic scene unfolding, and she shrieks, "Oh my god!"

"Jess! Hey!" Nick hopes she can see the cry for help he's trying to send with his eyes.

"What's going on?" Her eyes dart between the two of them as she carefully approaches the stand-off.

"Nick says you two are bumping uglies," Bob explains as he glares at Nick, still holding the knife menacingly in his direction.

"Dad!" Jess squeals, her face bright red.

"So it _is_ true." Bob looks over at his daughter. "What, do you owe money on the rent? I mean, what is going on here?"

"I don't know what's going on," Jess glances over at Nick out of the corner of her eye. "We haven't had a chance to talk it out yet."

Bob turns back to Nick, still looking pretty pissed off. "You haven't? How long has this been going on?"

He clears his throat nervously. "We've, uh, kissed a couple of times, but we only just slept together the one night. Last night."

"Nick!" Jess hisses, her face becoming even more impossibly red. "Can you please-"

"What?" Nick looks at her from over his shoulder. "I'm not gonna lie to the man threatening me with a _knife."_

Jess groans and rolls her eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks back at Bob. "Ugh, Dad, put that down."

"Fine." Bob drops the knife onto the counter with a clatter. Nick lets out a sigh of relief and slowly lowers his hands back down to his sides. "But Jess, why are you picking him? What's wrong with that nice doctor you told your mother about? Or the other fella who lives here? Wilson?"

"Dad, there's nothing wrong with Nick," Jess says with an exasperated sigh. It's not quite a compliment, but it's close enough to bring a slight smile to his face all the same. "You don't even know him."

Bob glances between the two of them, his face serious. Nick's entire job is based on his ability to read people and guess what they're thinking, but he doesn't have the slightest idea what is going through that man's head right now. Bob could be calculating his next attack on Nick's life or coming up with whatever series of insults he's about to unleash on him. But then Bob pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a tired sigh.

"I do know him. When I was young, I was confused, I was lost, I had no plan. But I went ahead and got married anyway. Then some odd years later, it all fell apart. And now look at me. I'm divorced and my ex-wife can barely stand to be in the same room as me. I never see my own daughter because she's grown up and decided she doesn't need me in her life anymore. All I have left is my work, but now that the plant shut down and force me into early retirement, all I do is sit around and yell at whatever game is on TV." Bob looks directly into Nick's eyes, and the look that Bob gives him is chilling. "You're not your father. You're me. And I'm not good enough for my little girl."

A deafening silence falls over the room. Nick feels horrible. That churning pool of guilt and anxiety opens back up in his stomach, and he can feel all his hopes getting sucked into the dark vortex. He glances over to Jess, who's conspicuously wiping at her eyes as she clearly tries to hold back from bursting into tears. It makes his heart hurt, and he wants to reach out to her, but Bob is still glaring menacingly at him.

"Um, okay," Jess says softly, finally breaking the silence. "Well, um this has been a really, um, neat talk. So, um, I'm gonna go sit in the shower, and, um, go over the greatest hits in my mind."

She dashes off to the bathroom, leaving Nick and Bob alone in the kitchen. Nick swears he can feel the temperature instantly drop ten degrees just from the icy glare Bob gives him.

"I..." Nick hesitates. "I'm gonna go check on her."

"You're the one who hurt her," Bob bites back. He turns away from Nick and gives him the cold shoulder as he digs through their fridge.

Nick lingers for a few seconds, wondering if should apologize or try to explain himself. But then he thinks better of it and silently goes down the hall to the bathroom.

Jess is propped up against the wall by the sinks, her makeup smeared in little black smudges below her eyes. She sniffles when she sees him walk inside and reaches up to rub away the tear trails on her cheeks. The ache in his chest doubles at the sight of her, and Bob's words echo in his head. _You're the one who hurt her._

Nick steps up to stand beside her and leans his weight back onto the sink. "Hey, Jess," he says softly, trying his best to smile despite the way he feels like absolute shit. "You okay?

"No," Jess admits, her eyes still watery. "This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me." She wipes at her eyes again and lets out a little half-laugh. "I've led a very fortunate life."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"No, it is," Nick insists, staring down at his shoes. "I should've known not to bring it up. But at lunch he told me that you know, all my baggage didn't mean anything, as long as I was with the right girl."

Jess smiles at him, sad but genuine. She gently places her hand over his. "I don't care about all that stuff." She gives his hand a squeeze. "I care about you."

Nick smiles back at her, and he reaches up with his free hand to wipe away a stray tear. "This is a real buttmuch of a situation we're in, huh?"

"Yeah," she agrees with a little giggle. It's slightly half-hearted, but Nick still chalks it up as a win. Jess winds her hands up around his neck, her thumb idly running over the skin just below his hairline. Nick wraps his arms around her waist, and his heart picks up at the way the simple gesture is already starting to become familiar.

"Look, Jess." Nick sighs. "There's nothing I know more than the fact that I wanna be with ya."

Jess' smile widens, her eyes shimmering with something he almost wants to call love. Her grip around his neck tightens, and Nick leans in to kiss her when they're interrupted by someone clearing their throat a few feet behind them. He glances over to see Bob looking at the two of them with a stern glare of disapproval. Nick takes a step away from Jess and reluctantly lets go of her. His arms swing uselessly by his sides now that she's out of his reach. Jess looks over at him, and he can see the same disappointment he's feeling mirrored in her features.

Bob clears his throat again. Nick almost wants to passive aggressively ask if he needs a cough drop, but manages to restrain himself. "Jess, did you have an extra toothbrush?"

"Yeah." Jess gives her head a little shake. "Yeah, I'll go grab it."

* * *

That night Nick lies awake in his bed, thinking about Jess across the hall. He's tempted to sneak over anyway, and not even for the promise of sex. He just wants to feel the warmth of her body against his, the sweet smell of her shampoo and the familiar feel of her silly pajama outfit. If this was junior high he might even go for it, ask her to secretly meet him somewhere where her dad wouldn't catch him.

But he's too old and too cowardly for that now, so instead he just stays there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how it's possible to miss someone who's barely ten feet away.


	36. I love you

Jess barely sleeps that night. She spends it tossing and turning in her bed as she fruitlessly tries to control her spiraling thoughts. This isn't how today was supposed to go. She had tried to be easygoing and adjust to the sudden curveball of her dad's arrival, but all day she'd counted down the hours until she and Nick could be alone again. She'd been distracted from her grading by daydreaming of him sneaking into her room tonight. He'd slip underneath her blankets, his body warm as he curled up beside her and his open mouth soft and pliant as he kissed her, the faint taste of his toothpaste lingering on his breath.

Instead, she spent the night alone in her suddenly too-big bed. There was some part of her that hoped Nick would throw caution to the wind and join her anyway. Maybe then she would've finally been able to get some sleep. But instead she wakes up alone, her head aching, eyes gritty from crying and neither rested nor satisfied in the way she knew she would have been if Nick had been there next to her.

Her dad is unreasonably chipper for the early hour, especially considering everything he said last night. She thinks this is his way of making her feel better, by being extra nice and acting like the whole thing never even happened. He compliments her dress and helps load up his suitcase into the back of her car. He pointedly doesn't comment on the flames painted on the sides, a byproduct of buying it from a sketchy but cheap used car lot.

The ride to the airport is oddly quiet, but Jess doesn't really know what her dad expects her to say to him. She keeps waiting for him to apologize or take back his words from last night, giving Nick his retroactive approval. But it doesn't look like he'll be doing that any time soon. Jess inherited all her stubbornness directly from him.

She can feel that familiar stubbornness dig its heels in even now, overriding her sadness at her father's disapproval. She's a grown woman. She doesn't need to earn her father's permission to date someone. It just rubs her the wrong way to know that someone doesn't like her or the choices she's making, and it's always worse when that person is someone whose opinion she really values, like her dad. She'd hoped that he and Nick would get along since they have such similar personalities, but apparently not.

"Did you want me to put on some music?" Jess asks after fifteen minutes of dead silence.

Her dad seems to take this as permission to change the topic entirely. "You know, honey, I've been thinking about Nick-"

"Dad," she cuts him off quickly, not even bothering to hide the bitter edge to her tone. "I really don't want to talk about this with you."

"I know you're upset with me," he says tentatively. "But I just want what's best for you."

"How do you know what's best for me?" Jess counters. She sees him in person _maybe_ three times a year. They'd been drifting apart since he moved out after the divorce, and they haven't been close after she left for college. "That's just your opinion."

"Alright, alright, I'll leave it alone."

A few more moments of silence pass. Jess clenches her jaw as she stares out the front windshield, fighting the urge to let him know _exactly_ what she thinks of his opinions.

"Do you remember that girl I dated right after your mother and I separated?"

" _Dad..."_

"I'm just asking if you remember!"

Jess sighs. "Which one?"

"Exactly my point," her dad says, and Jess rolls her eyes. "Those girls, they didn't last. Things seemed great, but then two weeks later the chemistry disappeared, and after I cancelled my credit cards I never heard from them again."

"No offense, Dad, but I'm not like your post-divorce girlfriends." Jess switches on her turn signal with a little unnecessary force. "I never pretended to be _paraplegic_."

"I didn't say that! But you know how I wasn't in the place to hold down a serious relationship right after I moved out." He pauses for a moment to let his words sink in. "And I don't think Nick is either."

"It's been months since he and Caroline separated. Things are different," Jess says defensively as she grips the steering wheel. _This is ridiculous._ She shouldn't have to explain her relationship to her dad. "Besides, Nick's moved on. All that stuff in his past doesn't matter."

Her dad hums, seemingly unimpressed. "So his ex-wife is totally okay with you two being together?"

"Well..." Jess frowns as the car rolls up to a red light. "I mean things with Caroline have always been complicated."

"So she _isn't_ okay with it?" her dad says, an unnecessary smugness to his tone.

"I don't know how she _actually_ feels about it," Jess counters. "We haven't told her."

"You're keeping it secret from her?" Her dad shakes his head. "That's not a good sign."

"It's not like that-" she cuts off with a groan. The light changes, and she channels her frustration into accelerating the car up to the speed limit. "We haven't told _anyone_. It's not like we're afraid of what she thinks."

Her dad lifts a skeptical eyebrow. "You're not?"

"No," Jess insists.

There's another long pause. Jess stews in her thoughts while her Dad stares out at the scenery through the window. She can't believe this. The last thing she needs is her dad attempting to meddle with her love life.

What does he know, anyway? It's not like his track record is scratch-free. Jess thinks through his long series of odd flings and failed girlfriends, and there wasn't a single one that managed to impress her. She's not like those women. They were crazy and only wanted to take advantage of her dad's vulnerability. Jess likes Nick for who he is. So what if he's got a little extra baggage? It's nothing that they can't handle together.

"And he's got a kid, too," her dad interjects.

Jess has to resist the urge to scream. "Dad."

"She's in your class, right? That must be tough," he continues, completely ignoring the glare she gives him. "I can't imagine what the other parents will think of that. I don't think they'll be too happy about some other kid getting preferential treatment because the dad is shacking up with teacher."

"That's not-"

Her dad pretends not to hear her and keeps going, "I mean, it'd be tough for me to try and keep the two separate-"

"It isn't-"

"And you have to think about how his daughter feels about the whole thing. First her parents won't stop fighting, then they get a divorce, and now her teacher is dating her dad. That can't be easy for a middle schooler-"

" _Dad."_ Jess cuts him off harshly in her no-nonsense teacher voice. "That's enough."

"Alright, alright!" her dad raises his hands in mock-innocence. "I didn't know it was bothering you. I'll stop."

Jess gives him one final glare before letting it go. Things are uncomfortably quiet for a few more minutes before her dad starts talking about the weather, and Jess lets out a big sigh of relief and goes along with it. They manage to gloss over the whole argument in the last few minutes of the drive, and things between them are tentatively amicable when she finally pulls into the airport drop-off lane.

Her dad hugs her before he leaves. "I just want what's best for you," he says.

"I know, Dad." Jess sighs and lets him go. "Have a good flight."

"Bye, sweetheart." He gives her one last wave before disappearing into the building.

* * *

Jess' thoughts are a mess the whole ride to school. She hates to admit it, but her dad might have gotten into her head a little bit. He's got her thoughts all twisted around, and she can't make sense of things. But she doesn't have time to deal with this now. She has to focus on her students. That'll help her clear her head. Then later tonight, she can talk to Nick about all this. He always helps her make sense of things.

Unfortunately, her students don't seem to get the memo that she's having a really shitty couple of days because they're absolute monsters. She hasn't seen them act this poorly in her entire time teaching here. Maybe it was having yesterday off without homework, or recess getting rained out, or the baking soda volcanos they did in science class, or likely some unholy combination of the three. She feels more like a babysitter than a teacher today, yelling at kids to behave and threatening to revoke international penpal privileges.

Not even having Abbi in third block helps. Seeing her makes Jess think of Nick, which is nice, but then that train of thought leads back to her dad and his disapproval, which kicks up this gross, guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knows that he's wrong about their relationship, but that doesn't do anything about how she _feels_ about the whole mess.

Abbi asks her if anything's wrong, and Jess has to lie and tell her that everything is fine. It only makes the feeling worse.

Eventually she makes it through the day, and she's counting down the minutes until her office hours end, so she can finally leave and enjoy her weekend with Nick. She's on her fourth attempted read-through of her rubric for the midterm writing project when someone knocks on the door to her classroom. Jess looks up, and her heart leaps when she recognizes Nick. She lets out a long exhale, and all the tension of the day relaxes from her tight shoulders.

"Can I come in, Miss Day?" he asks with a teasing smirk.

Jess laughs and waves for him to come in. "What are you doing here?" she asks as she stands up from her desk.

"I've got Abbi for the weekend, so I'm here to pick her up from her violin lesson," Nick explains. He steps up to Jess and casually rests his hands on her hips. "And I wanted to surprise you."

She smiles, and Nick pulls her in for a kiss. It feels like a drink of water on a hot afternoon. His hands hold her steady as his mouth glides over hers, and it's exactly what she needed after this absolute disaster of a day. Jess sighs into the kiss before reluctantly pulling away to lean against the edge of her desk.

Nick grins and gives her another quick kiss before stepping away to sit on top of one of the desks in the front row. "How was your day?"

"Awful," Jess groans. "My students were crazy and wouldn't listen to a word I said."

"Kids are the worst," he says with a laugh. Jess rolls her eyes and gives him a light smack on the arm. "Well at least you've got two whole days to recover."

"Thank God. I wanna sleep for, like, twenty-four straight hours."

"Yeah, I think you earned it." Nick chuckles at her joke as he stands back up from the desk, slowly drifting back towards her.

His gaze drops down to her lips, and Jess giggles a little, just because being with him seems to make everything a little less serious. Nick reaches out for her again, his arm wraps around her waist to pull her tight against his chest while his hand spans across her back. Jess smiles before kissing him, her arms wrap around his neck as she lifts up on her tiptoes to reach him. It's weird, but she always seems to forget how tall Nick is. She likes it. He has broad shoulders and big hands, and she just wants to curl up against him and forget all the complications that her dad keeps trying to remind her of.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt but— _Nick?!"_

Jess quickly breaks off the kiss, her head whipping over towards the hallway to see Caroline peering into the doorway with a purple duffle bag on her arm. Nick quickly lets go of Jess, clearing his throat as he puts a good bit of distance between them. "Hi, Caroline."

"Were you here for office hours?" Jess asks politely, trying her best to recover from being caught mid-kiss.

"Yeah, I just need to drop off a few of Abbi's things and—" she sets the bag down on the ground and then hesitates, looking between Nick and Jess with a guarded expression. "I'm sorry, but I just really can't get past..." she gestures vaguely. " _This_."

Jess laughs nervously. She thinks that was a joke, but Caroline's always been nearly impossible to read, even worse than Nick. He glances over at her with a slightly panicked expression.

"So you two are dating?" Caroline asks, a forced pleasantness to her tone.

"Well..." Jess falters. They haven't talked about this at all. _What if they're not on the same page? What if Nick just wanted a hookup?_ She thinks this is more than that, but they haven't clarified anything, and she's terrified to mess this all up. "I don't know if I'd really call it that."

Caroline blinks, confused. "You two were just kissing. Or is this like at the restaurant? The not-date?"

"No, um..." Nick clears his throat again. "We're together. It's just... new." He looks over at Jess with a sheepish grin. She smiles back and reaches out to grab his hand reassuringly.

"That's nice." Caroline looks between the two of them, clearly uncomfortable but still trying to force her way through the discomfort in the name of social convention. "So when did you two..."

"Just a few days ago," Jess answers with a polite smile.

Nick turns to look at her, his eyes warm with affection, and she gives his hand another squeeze. "But you know, it had been building for a long time."

"A long time?" Caroline repeats. She has an iron-tight grip on the strap of her handbag. "When exactly did this start?"

"Um..." Jess looks over to Nick. They should lie, right? But they didn't do anything wrong.

"Well," Nick starts hesitantly. "We really only got together a few days ago, but we'd kissed a couple of times before that, sort of an off-and-on, will-they won't-they kind of thing."

"I wasn't trying to steal him from you or anything." Jess laughs nervously, hoping it'll break the sudden tension in the room, but her attempt at a joke falls painfully flat.

"I want a timeline." Caroline's voice is deadly serious. " _Now."_

Jess clears her throat nervously, trying to remember. "Well, there was us getting together this week. And then the kiss in September after you broke up with Julia."

"Who I didn't start seeing until after I got the final divorce paperwork," Nick adds in quickly.

"But the first kiss was... June?" Jess says hesitantly. "But I turned you down."

Nick frowns in consideration. "Well, the _first_ first kiss was after the wedding-"

"The wedding?" Caroline repeats, not even trying to hide that she's upset.

 _Shit. Shit shit shit_.

"No! It wasn't- Nick was drunk," Jess tries to explain, but Caroline just glares at her.

Caroline looks _pissed_. "So you took advantage of him?"

"No!"

"It wasn't Jess," Nick chimes in. "It was me. I was plastered and miserable. You'd given me your ring, and I thought things between us were over."

"So you just abandoned me the first chance you got?" Caroline bites back, and even through the anger Jess can hear the hurt in her words. "I asked if you two were... and you told me there was nothing. That you were just friends."

"And we were," Jess says quickly. "That was just a drunken mistake, and Nick didn't mean anything by it. He didn't even remember the kiss the next day." Caroline still doesn't look convinced. "I swear. It was like nothing even happened."

"But it did." Her voice is cold and accusatory.

"Look, Caroline," Nick says softly. He glances at Jess out of the corner of his eye before turning back to face Caroline, his face serious. "I never cheated on you. But I might as well have because I fell in love with Jess the moment I met her."

There's a loaded pause as he briefly looks over to Jess before smiling apologetically at his ex-wife.

Caroline slaps him.

Hard.

The sound echoes in the empty classroom. Nick's hand comes up to rest on his reddening cheek, his face a complicated storm of shock and hurt and anger. Caroline almost looks equally surprised, like she hadn't planned to actually hit him, and the action caught her off-guard. Jess just stands frozen in place, her head reeling with the severity of what had just happened.

A deafening silence settles in the air, and the tension between the three of them is thick enough to slice. Jess has been in her fair share of uncomfortable and awkward situations, but this is on a whole new level. Usually her mishaps are just simple misunderstandings or her overthinking things, like the time she went to a wedding and accidentally stepped into the spotlight that was meant for the introduction of the newly-married couple and then ended up announcing their way to the dance floor. That was painfully weird and uncomfortable, but she managed to stumble her way through it.

This couldn't be any more different. This is serious and not the least bit funny. Jess knows what it's like to be cheated on. It's horrible and heartbreaking, and she wouldn't wish it on anyone. But what happened with her and Nick, that's different. Caroline had made it clear that she and Nick were over, and if she felt otherwise then she should've told him so. It's not fair for her to expect Nick to read her mind when she doesn't give him the slightest idea of what she's feeling.

"I'm taking Abbi home," Caroline finally says. Her jaw is tense as she scoops up Abbi's things before storming out of the classroom.

Nick's eyes widen, and he immediately chases Caroline out the door. He doesn't even give Jess a spare glance on his way out.

Jess is still stuck where she is. Her feet suddenly feel like they're weighted to the ground, and she's not sure if she has the energy to move. What feels like an eternity passes, her head empty except for the pounding of her heart, and Caroline's final words echoing in her ears. She glances out the window of her classroom, and she can see Nick and Caroline animatedly having a conversation on the sidewalk in front of her minivan.

She gathers her things up in a trance, hoping that she has everything that she needs. She doesn't have the capacity to focus on anything right now except for the panic rising in her chest. Every few seconds she'll glance out the window, but she's not really sure what she's expecting. Best case scenario is Nick and Caroline hugging, finally coming to terms with where they are. More realistically, it's Nick sitting abandoned on the sidewalk.

As she walks out the front doors of the school, she quickly spots the two, still right in the middle of their screaming match. Jess hates it when people are mad at her, and her every instinct is telling her to go and apologize to Caroline, to try and reason with her and make her understand that what happened was a mistake and that Nick would never, ever cheat on anyone. But she knows that getting involved is only going to make things worse, and she can't do that to Nick. Not when she's already done so much to ruin things already. So she lingers a few feet away, just in case things settle down and she can step in.

"You can't do this to me!" Nick yells. "Not again. You can't keep Abbi from me because you're upset. That's not fair."

"It's not _fair?!"_ Caroline shrieks. "You lied to me for _months._ I'm sorry; I can't trust you anymore."

Nick scoffs. "Oh that's bullshit."

"Is it?!" Caroline counters. "What else have you been keeping from me? How do I know that you and Jess haven't been sleeping together this whole time? How am I supposed to believe anything you tell me?"

"You can't use my daughter as a fucking bargaining chip."

"She's my daughter, too, you asshole." Caroline fumes. "And I'm the one who's been with her this whole time while you were off falling in love with your doe-eyed roommate."

"Don't bring Jess into this," Nick seethes. "It's not about her. It's about me having rights to my own daughter."

"They're not rights; they're _privileges_." Caroline crosses her arms over her chest. "And I don't know what the court would give to a fucking _cheater."_

Jess cringes. That's a low blow, and Caroline likely knows it.

"You wouldn't dare."

"You wouldn't dare cheat on me," Caroline bites back. "That's what you told me. All the while you were jumping at your first chance to get your dick wet."

"Don't talk about Jess like that." Nick's tone is restrained, but this is the most furious that Jess has ever seen him.

Caroline backs down as she realizes she's crossed a line. Nick also relaxes slightly as the fight comes to an impasse. Jess wonders if this is her chance to step in, but they're arguing about _her_. It's like when she was eavesdropping at the wedding, only a thousand times worse. Nick had been telling the truth then; there hadn't been anything going on between the two of them then. But now it's different and messy, and Jess doesn't know what to do.

A long pause passes, and Jess wonders if this is the end of the fight, now that they've both blown off their steam. Maybe that's all they needed, to air out the initial hurt and anger, so they could move on to forgiveness and understanding. Or maybe she's just being naive.

There are tears running down Caroline's face. "It could've been anyone. Anyone. Some woman from work or a faceless stranger that you met online or at a bar. But instead, it's _her_."

"Caroline..." Nick says tentatively, reaching out for her arm.

She yanks her shoulder away from him. "Don't. Don't think you can make this better. I _trusted_ you."

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear. I wasn't thinking."

Caroline wipes at her face with the back of her hand. "I know you weren't."

This is too much. Jess shouldn't be listening to this. She can see Abbi in the backseat of the van, her nose buried in the chapter book Jess recommended to her just last week. She wonders if she can hear her parents from inside the car, if she's just pretending that everything's fine and trying not to think too much about how she was _supposed_ to spend the weekend with her dad.

Jess can vividly remember being in her shoes when her parents were in the process of splitting up, when she did her best to act like it would all blow over, and they would be a happy family again. It wasn't even until two years ago that she finally gave up on trying to pull a 'Parent Trap' to get them back together.

It makes her heart ache, but she shifts her grip on the stack of papers in her arms and walks towards her car, leaving Nick and his family behind. Jess slides into the front seat and drops her forehead onto the steering wheel, blinking back the tears. _She's a homewrecker. She wrecked someone's home._ Some part of her knows that's not true, that Nick and Caroline's relationship had been on shaky ground from the start. Nick was a workaholic who lost sight of his priorities before he met her. He wasn't in love with her when Caroline kicked him out.

But then again, he said that he fell in love with her the first time they met. The thought of it makes her stomach twist up in knots, a combination of guilt and anxiety and worry. Is that how he really feels about her? Does he really love her? Is Nick in love with her?

It's too much. All of it. Nick's confession, him fighting with Caroline, seeing Abbi in the car, knowing that her dad might be right about this, all of it. Her head is a jumbled mess, and she doesn't know what to do, so she starts her car and starts driving. She gets to the stop sign at the end of the school parking lot, and she knows that she needs to turn left. But then she spots the tiny shapes of Nick and Caroline in her rearview mirror, still standing out in front of the school.

She switches on her blinker and turns right.

* * *

Jess drives and drives. The sun goes down, and she keeps driving, scanning through the radio at random and trying to think of anything but Nick and Caroline screaming at each other. She drives until she just can't sit in the same position for a moment longer, and then pulls into the first fast food place she sees, a rundown Del Taco that's somehow still open. Her phone buzzes over and over with a flood of notifications, likely her friends trying to figure out where she's disappeared to, and she knows she should probably answer at least one of them, just to let them know she's still alive. But she ignores all of it, flips her phone upside down on the slightly sticky table so she' not tempted to read through the alerts on her phone as she finishes her tacos and fries.

She gets back in the car and keeps driving. She eventually realizes that it's getting really late, and she really does have to go home. Her thoughts are somewhat clearer, her head is aching, and her eyes are itchy from crying at every sad song that came on the radio. The street is quiet when she pulls up to the loft, and even Outside Dave has mysteriously vanished. Jess lingers in the lobby, reads over all the flyers tacked up on the bulletin board two times through before she finally gives in to the inevitability of responsibility and takes the elevator up to the loft.

Nick is sitting at the kitchen island with a beer. There are three other empty bottles in front of him, and he looks _awful_. A dark storm cloud of misery has reappeared over his head, and it's almost exactly like stepping back in time to when he first came to the loft. He's away from his daughter, he's in the middle of a huge, messy fight with Caroline, and he's stuck in the loft, drinking to forget.

There's a sick feeling in Jess' stomach at the sight. She did this. It's entirely her fault.

"Abbi's staying with Caroline this weekend," Nick explains before taking a long draw of his beer, emptying nearly half the bottle. "I called her at bedtime like I always do. But she told me she didn't want to talk to me because I 'made Mom upset.'" He sighs and rubs his free hand over his bloodshot eyes. "I wanna say that Caroline told her to say that, but I don't think she'd stoop that low."

"I'm sorry," Jess whispers.

Nick lets out a long exhale. "It's not your fault. I should've handled this better."

Jess frowns. "We both should have."

"I just—" He takes another long drink. "That was obviously the wrong way to do it. But I've been sitting here and thinking and thinking, and I can't think of the right way."

"I'm sorry," she whispers again, and Nick doesn't say anything.

They're silent for a while. Jess picks at the label of one of Nick's empty bottles to give her restless hands something to do. Nick finishes his beer, and then starts another but drinks it slower than the last one.

"Are you really in love with me?" Jess blurts out after a few minutes. She's been mulling over it all night, and the fact that it might be true still terrifies her.

Nick looks at her, his eyes serious as he considers the question. "Yeah. I love you, Jess."

She doesn't say it back. Some part of her has the impulse to thank him or do finger guns or make a lasso or something, anything, to break the tense silence that follows his confession.

"Jess," Nick sighs again, rolling his beer bottle between his palms. "I know we've only just gotten together, and that this is probably moving way too fast, but I'm _all in._ I love you."

"Oh," Jess breathes. "Nick..."

That suffocating feeling from yesterday starts to set in again. She's not ready for this. She's not the kind of girl who can handle a long-term relationship. All her past boyfriends have eventually crashed and burned. Spencer was the only guy she managed to hold on to for more than a year, and she really thought that he was going to be The One. She put up with six years of dealing with every curveball he threw at her: the failed home brewery, the cross-state bike trip, the long-term stretches of unemployment. But he still cheated on her. And yeah, she found the loft with Schmidt and Winston and Nick, but maybe her next failure and Craigslist gamble won't be so lucky.

"Look, I _know_ it's crazy." Nick reaches out and takes her hand in his. "But I want this with you. I want a future together. There's a lot of things that I don't know, but the one thing I'm sure of is that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She likes Nick. She really, really likes him. And that could be love one day. It's already pretty damn close. But she doesn't want to be Nick's next Caroline. She doesn't want to rush into a marriage that they'll eventually grow out of. She doesn't want to fight all the time and stubbornly ignore the fact that things fundamentally don't work between them. She doesn't want the heartbreak of realizing that they're not meant to be together.

"Nick," she says softly. "I'm not... I'm not ready to be someone's wife."

His smile falters. "I never said that, Jess."

"But you _did_ ," she insists. "What you're describing, that's married life. I mean, we already live together. That's the next logical step."

"Well, what do you want?" he asks.

"I don't know," Jess admits. "Maybe I'll be a principal, or I'll open up my own school, or maybe I'll just give up on everything and go to New Orleans and write a detective novel. But that's still ages away."

Nick's brow furrows in confusion. "You'll move across the country to write some far-fetched detective novel, but you can't imagine us together five years from now?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what?"

Jess lets out an exhausted sigh. "I just don't think you can create a plan for your life because crazy things get thrown at you. Like your boyfriend cheats on you, or your marriage falls apart, or you fall in love with your roommate. So maybe it's crazy to talk about giving up on a steady job and travel thousands of miles away to write a young adult novel, but that's the closest thing that I have to a plan. And I think it's even crazier to try and plan every single detail of our future together."

"I think it's crazy not to," Nick counters. "I just can't live that way. I have a kid, and she can't just go with the flow. She needs structure. Routine. Predictability. I have to pay for her college fund and pay the bills and run my law firm. I can't just abandon my life to write the next great American novel."

Jess tentatively pulls her hand away from his, and Nick reluctantly lets her go. They sit in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation fully sinking in.

"Nick, why is this so hard?" she says. "I mean, we've been together for two days and look at the mess we're in. I don't want it to be like this all the time."

"I don't know," he admits, frowning down at the table, "and it's awful."

They're both quiet. Jess has this horrible feeling in her chest because she knows what's coming next, and she knows it's going to hurt.

"Do you ever miss when we were just friends?" Nick asks quietly. "Back before all of this, when there wasn't all this pressure about having a future together, or trying to figure out what this relationship is, or the kisses we did or didn't remember, or having feelings for each other but not knowing what that really meant?"

Jess can already feel the tears building up in her eyes as she looks at him. "I miss having my friend," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Nick agrees. His jaw is clenched tight, and she can tell he's fighting back tears. "Look, Jess, it's not that big of a deal. We tried. It's just... you know..."

"Just say it," she whispers, her lip wobbling.

"I think we should call it, you know?" He shrugs, a half-hearted smile on his face. "We had one night. That's all."

"Okay, let's call it. I think that feels good to me," she lies. "Does that feel good to you?"

Nick nods, his eyes pointedly trained down on the countertop.

Jess waits for a moment. She's not sure why, if she's hoping that he'll suddenly change his mind, or if Caroline will suddenly call and apologize, or that she'll suddenly get a wave of courage and tell him that it doesn't matter that she's terrified of the future he's planned out for them, but that she wants to try it anyway because she cares about him. Or maybe she's waiting for herself to stop being so afraid of heartbreak and say that she loves him back.

But none of that happens.

She leaves in a daze, and her door shuts behind her with a resounding _thud_. Nick returns to his room a moment later, and she can feel her heart break with the sound of his door closing behind him.


	37. Green light

Nick stares blankly at Jess as she walks out of the kitchen. His every instinct is screaming at him to stop her, to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away to his room. He doesn't want to think about all this, about how she isn't ready for a relationship or how her father doesn't think that he's good enough or how his wife and daughter refuse to talk to him. When he's with Jess, all those other messes fade away. It's just him and her: the gleam of her smile, the taste of her lips, the warmth of her body pressed to his. Just sitting beside her can make the shittiest day a little brighter.

The thing is, Nick doesn't want to call it. He wasn't lying when he said he was in love with Jess, and the thought of giving up on her makes him sick to his stomach. But it hasn't even been two days and it already feels like the world is against them. First her dad and then Caroline and Abbi and then whatever else the world decides to throw at them. It makes him want to give up on everything else and stay locked away with her in her room. They'll lie in bed together wrapped around each other, an island of calm where none of these other complications can try to pull them apart.

He meant what he said earlier. He wishes this was easier. There were plenty of days where he wished he could fall out of love with her. All those days when he had to silently watch her date other guys who didn't care about her the way he did or when he knew that he was supposed to be moving on to someone else. But he _loves_ Jess. He's fought against that feeling, but he can no longer run from that fact. That's what his entire life always seems to come back to. That's supposed to be the ultimate trump card, the thing that supersedes everything else. Is he just going to give up on this? He's wanted this for so long, and he's just gonna call it quits when they finally have a chance to be together for real?

But maybe this is what love really is. You do the hard math, the calculus of what your life could be like if you join it to someone else's, and sometimes you come up short. Love is letting someone go before things spiral out of control and you both end up hurting each other in irreparable ways. Maybe the idea of happiness can never live up to the reality.

So Nick does what he does best: he drinks to forget. He grabs a few beers from the fridge and retreats to his room to get blackout drunk. It'll numb the pain temporarily. He can pretend it's erasing all the memories of them together that he's strung together like a series of bad home movies. Their story wasn't meant to be a love story anyway. Like most love stories, it's really about loss. It's about losing the best thing that ever happened to you over and over again because you're too stupid to rescue yourself from choosing the wrong people to fall in love with and going down that same path at every single point of your life.

He knows it won't change anything. The next morning he'll wake up with a massive hangover and an empty bed and wonder why Jess isn't lying beside him. Then he'll remember that they broke up. _Is it really a breakup if they were never dating?_ Living through it feels the same. Examining it doesn't make a damn bit of difference so he'll drink more alcohol to erase that too. _Bottoms up, Nicky. No more thinking, only drinking._

Jess stakes out a spot on the couch and watches _Dirty Dancing_ over and over again. She tries to wipe at her cheeks surrepitiously whenever he walks into the living room, but the red rims around her eyes, and the pile of crumpled up tissues beside the couch gives her away. Nick makes his way to the kitchen to root around for more liquor and politely pretends not to notice that she's been crying, even when he drops off another box of tissues for her on the coffee table.

"Allergies," Jess explains, her voice wavering as she looks up at him with tears already welling up in her eyes.

If this were a few weeks ago he would've immediately sat down beside her, pulled her into his arms, and then struggled to figure out something comforting to say. He would've said something dumb and grossly inelegant, but he knows it would have made her smile. He was still capable of that back then: making her happy. Nick's always liked this movie, as cheesy and ridiculous as he thinks it is. He's got half a mind to say _fuck it_ and join her on the couch. Friends watch movies together all the time. Isn't that what they still are now? Fuck, maybe not even that. They can't even get back to that because he had to poke at the bear, open that damn door because for a millisecond he thought "more than friends" might work for them. Now they can't look at each other and pretend anymore. He would inevitably get distracted by the way Jess was curled up against him as his heart ached for more. Unlike all the times before, he knows exactly what it feels like to have her, but there isn't even the slightest bit of hope that it might happen.

"Yeah, me too," Nick agrees, his voice rough and his grip tight on the neck of his half-empty bottle of Jack.

He stalks back off to his room and tries to drown his failure in whiskey.

* * *

After about one and a half weeks they settle back into their usual groove, two friends who are attracted to each other and also kinda miserable about how they aren't actually together. There's a part of Nick that wishes they could go back in time, to way before this whole mess ever happened. Surely it'd be better for him to always wonder what could have been instead of living with the failure of letting Jess slip through his fingers. Whatever this is now, trying to pretend like nothing happened, it's just not sustainable. He's not sure what his next move is, because he can't spend the rest of his life drinking the pain away.

There's an annoying little voice in his head telling him to move out, that he should've done so a long time ago. Without Jess, it's not like there's any reason for him to really be here anymore. He decides to give himself another week to lick his wounds and vows to start looking at places starting on Friday. Then he'll have whatever's left of the month in the loft before he's gone for good. The guys probably won't be too happy about him up and leaving, but they'll get over it. They'll all make promises about staying in touch that Nick knows they won't actually keep. He's the kind of guy that people forget about. He's not the kind of guy to show up and wedge himself into whatever shenanigan is going on. He's never been that guy. He wouldn't be surprised if Schmidt, Winnie, and Jess have only included him in anything because he lives with them. It seems like the only reason people keep him around is sheer proximity. He's not somebody people chase, somebody other people care about keeping around once initial pleasantries have passed, and they get to know the real him. Once he's gone it'll only be a little while before they forget he was ever here at all.

The loft isn't all that big, and word spreads fast. It isn't long before Winston and Schmidt know about what happened with him and Jess. They both seem equal parts pissed off and sorry for him. He catches their looks of pity out of the corner of his eye, but whenever he starts to tell them off, they just give him the cold shoulder.

Nick walks in on Schmidt trying to coax Jess off the couch on Saturday night, his heart aches at the brief look of hurt that flashes in Jess' eyes when she sees him. Schmidt looks between the two of them, and then glares at Nick before pulling Jess up off the couch and dragging her down the hall towards the bathroom. A few hours later, Nick's sitting on the couch trying (and failing) to focus on paperwork when Schmidt leaves out the front door with Jess in tow, promising to be back late that night. He just stares blankly at the two of them, his eyes lingering on the door even after it shuts.

After a moment, Winston drops down onto the couch beside him and mutters, "Sucks, man," and then turns on the Bulls game. Nick thinks he's probably supposed to do something like bare his soul and pour out all his secrets, but he just stares down at his paperwork and focuses on trying to make out the scribbled-out notes in the margins while also pushing down that guilty feeling whenever Bob Day comes up in the record.

He's gotten nothing but radio silence from Caroline since their fight. If there's anything he's learned about her, it's that she needs space after a fight, time to cool off and collect her thoughts before she can compromise and come to an agreement with him. Whenever Nick tries to push her, she just shoves him away, and they just end up making the fight even worse. He'll give her another day or two, and then he'll make his apologies and things will go back to the way they used to be.

Once or twice he wonders if it was worth it, if the one good night that he had with Jess was worth his life falling apart all over again. If he had a chance to do it over now that he knows that they were doomed to fail, would he have given up on her?

Maybe he's an idiot, but he would still go through heartbreak all over again just for another week with Jess.

* * *

Nick still hasn't heard from Caroline by Sunday evening, but that doesn't stop him from constantly keeping his phone on hand, just in case she should happen to change her mind. He's sitting at the dining table, poking at his half-eaten dinner as he stares at his phone and waits for the call that he knows isn't going to come any time soon.

Jess is on her sixth rewatch of _Dirty Dancing_ for the day. She's curled up on the couch with her back to him, both of them pretending like the other person isn't there. It sucks because Nick had been stupid enough to hold on to that hope that they _could_ go back to the way they used to be, that they would be friends again, plain and simple, given enough time.

But apparently he's already in too deep. Jess seems to want nothing but space away from him. Nick misses her like he's missing a part of himself. She's become an integral part of his life, and not having her around makes him realize it even more. They've been apart for a little over a week but it feels like a lifetime without her, and there's nothing he wants more than to have her back.

 _This is what they agreed to_ , he reminds himself. _They_ agreed that things weren't working between them, that it would never work between them. It was too difficult and too complicated and they both wanted different things for the future. He wants to intricately map out every possible scenario and backup plan, and Jess just wants to wing it. They're just fundamentally different people. It's better to realize that now than a year from now.

It's funny because the more Nick thinks about it, the more ridiculous it seems. He'd do anything for Jess, and if that meant unclenching a bit and loosening his strong-armed grip on his five-year plan, well he'd do it for her. _She's_ his five-year plan. But it's too late to go back now. The time has passed for him to lay out a defense of _them._ He should have been ready then, and he knows you don't get to go back and fix the mistake, even when you finally find the right words. Jess doesn't want to be together, and he has to respect that, no matter what his heart says.

His phone rings, breaking him out of his thoughts. Nick distractedly looks at the screen, expecting it to be someone from the office or one of those scam telemarketer calls. But when he sees the name and photo on his screen, he nearly chokes on a bite of his sandwich and hastily hits _Answer Call_.

"Caroline?"

"Is this Nick?" an unfamiliar male voice says on the other line.

"Yes." Nick frowns. "Why? What's going on?"

"Hi, I'm an officer with the LA Police. I'm here with Caroline and she's asking for you-"

"An officer? What happened?" Nick asks again, panic rising in his chest. Jess' head pops up from behind the couch.

"Caroline was driving when a car collided with her and-"

Nick's brain whites out. "Is she okay? Where's Abbi? Is Abbi alright? Where are you?"

"Sir," the officer says, his voice eerily stoic. "Please remain calm."

"Is everyone okay?" Nick asks again, panic and fear clouding his thoughts and turning his head into a mess.

"Both Caroline and Abbi are out of the car and are being evaluated," the officer explains, and a rush of relief washes over Nick. "Emergency medical services is about to transport them to the emergency room-"

Nick stands up from the table and checks his pockets for his wallet. "Where are you? I can leave now and be there in-"

"Sir, you can meet them at the hospital-"

"Where are you?" Nick asks again, insistently.

The officer sighs and says, "The corner of Third and Main."

"I'm close. Really close. I can be there in a few minutes, please."

"If you're not, then you'll have to meet them at the hospital," the officer says before hanging up.

"What's going on?" Jess asks softly.

Nick's throat is tight, but he manages to force out a reply. "Car crash. Abbi and Caroline are hurt and-"

"Oh my God." The blood drains out of Jess' face. "I'll drive you."

His hands are shaking so hard he's afraid he might drop his keys, and he's still so shocked that he can't really hear or see anything too well right now. But he's fine, he doesn't need her to step in and do something he can do himself. It's not her family anyway. It's his responsibility to man up and deal with this, not hers. "Jess, you don't have to..."

"I'm going to," she insists. Jess jumps off the couch, grabs her bag from the bookshelf, and snatches the keys out of Nick's hand. He follows her out of the loft, still feeling like he's in a daze.

* * *

Nick is on edge during the whole ride. He can't really _feel_ anything but the pounding of his heart and the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tries not to hyperventilate. All he can think of are those medical dramas Caroline always liked to watch, the gruesome sight of victims being pulled out of the decimated remains of cars, bleeding and unconscious. They only just got rid of Abbi's car seat one or two years ago, but maybe that was too soon. Was she sitting in the front? Was she wearing her seatbelt? Every worst-case scenario is running through his mind, and Nick can't seem to keep track of reality in the mix of it all.

"They're going to be fine," Jess says reassuringly, but her knuckles are white from the way she grips the steering wheel.

It's only a few minutes until they arrive, and there's a heavy weight that drops in Nick's stomach when he recognizes Caroline's mangled minivan on the side of the road. Jess pulls over, and Nick barely waits for the car to come to a complete stop before rushing out the door. He jogs up to the ambulance where he can see the familiar blonde hair of his ex wife as she argues with one of the paramedics.

"Ma'am, we have to take you and your daughter to the emergency room," the woman in the blue EMT uniform says sternly.

"No, I have to— Nick. I need Nick." Caroline is crying as she frantically looks around the crash site. "We can't leave without seeing him. He won't be able to find us. Please, I can't-"

"Nick can meet you at the hospital," the EMT explains, holding her hands up in an attempt to calm Caroline down. "You're in shock and possibly concussed. Both you and your daughter are in need of immediate medical attention."

"But— Nick— I—"

"I'm here!" Nick yells, out of breath as he closes the gap between him and the two women. "I'm Nick. Abbi's father."

"Nick!" Caroline turns to look at him, but then winces at the motion, her hand flying up to cradle her arm.

He fights back fear and does his best to smile at her. "Are you okay? Where's Abbi?"

"She's already in the truck," the EMT explains, guiding the now-compliant Caroline towards the open door in the back of the ambulance. "We can fit you in as well."

"Okay. Yes," Nick agrees without a second thought.

The EMTs help lift Caroline into the ambulance and Nick climbs in after her as they secure her in one of the seats. Nick hesitates slightly and turns to see Jess from his vantage point over the small crowd. He puts on a brave face and gives her a wave before the other EMT slams the door shut.

Abbi's strapped into a stretcher in the middle of the truck with a splint secured around her lower left arm, but she's still able to sit upright. The sight of her awake and breathing sends a wave of relief through Nick. She still seems in a daze, tears running down her face and pooling above the clear oxygen tube placed underneath her nose, her uneven breaths punctuated by hiccups.

"Hey, sweetheart," Nick says gently as he leans in towards her. "How are you feeling?"

"My arm hurts." Abbi's wavering voice is barely above a whisper, and it makes Nick's chest ache for her. She's his baby girl. The absolute last thing he wants is for her to be hurting in any way. He promised to protect her, to keep her safe from danger and everything scary in the world, and he can't help but feel like he failed her, even though he knows that rationally there was nothing he could've done.

"I know, honey. That's why we're going to the hospital." Every one of Nick's instincts is telling him to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her tight, but then the EMT gives him a stern look, so he balls his hands up into fists and does his best to hold himself back.

Abbi's eyes are watery, lips pulled down in a pout as she looks at her dad and whispers, "I'm sorry."

"What?" Nick's brow furrows. "Baby, no..."

"I was mean. I wanted to talk to you, but I was upset, and I'm sorry and-"

"Sweetheart, no. You don't have to..." He wants to hug her, desperately wants to, but he can't and it's _killing_ him.

"It's okay, pumpkin." Caroline's eyes are sad, the same complicated look that's mirrored in her daughter's.

Nick thinks _fuck it_ and grabs Abbi's hand in his. "You're okay. That's all that matters. We're all gonna be okay."

* * *

Caroline and Abbi get checked into the ER, and then are promptly escorted into an observation room, so the doctor can look them over and evaluate their injuries. Nick waits anxiously in the hallway, pacing back and forth with his hands shoved into his pockets. His mind is still spiraling, trying to prepare for the worst and painfully aware that he doesn't know how to cope with this helpless feeling in the pit of his chest.

There's a small commotion at the front desk, and it's loud enough to drag Nick out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks over to where a woman in sweatpants and a cardigan is arguing with the poor nurse on duty, and it only takes Nick a moment to recognize the insistent voice.

"No, I _know_ what your policy is, but I'm fine. I'm here for my friend. His daughter and ex-wife were in a car crash. The Miller family. Please, I'll be in and out so fast. Please, would you just let me—"

"I'm sorry, but I can't just let you in without—"

"She's with me," Nick cuts in quickly, leaning over the desk.

Jess lights up, and then turns back to the nurse. "See!"

The nurse gives them an unimpressed look, rolls her eyes, and then waves Jess away. Nick can hear her muttering to herself about crazy-eyed girls, but he just ignores it and leads Jess down the hall.

"How are Abbi and Caroline?" she asks in a hushed whisper as they make their way toward the observation room.

"They're gonna be fine," Nick says, still only half-believing it himself. "Nurse gave 'em a once-over when we arrived. The doctor's with them now."

"Must've really shaken Abbi up," Jess says once they come to a stop. "She's still so young. I can't even imagine what she must be feeling."

"Yeah," Nick agrees distractedly as he stares at the closed door. He turns back to look at Jess, his mind slowly catching up and processing that she's _here_ , in the hospital. "Wait, why are you here? I thought you went home."

"Well, I had to drop off your car, and I wanted to make sure Abbi was okay, and..." She hesitates, picking at her chipping nail polish before looking back up at him. "I couldn't let you do this on your own."

"Oh."

Nick stares at her for a moment, stunned. He hadn't expected that. The car part makes sense, even though it's far more than what he would expect from the average friend. But Jess has always been the type to go above and beyond for the people she cares about. Her checking on Abbi is a little bit beyond her reach, but the two are close enough that it still makes sense to him. But the fact that she's here for _him_ makes his chest feel oddly tight, and some part of him whispers that she might still care about him more than she's letting on.

But before he has the chance to say anything else, the door of the observation room opens. The doctor leans her head out the door and asks, "Are you Nick Miller?"

"Yes." Nick blinks and tries to clear his head. "Yeah, that's me."

"We're ready for you." The doctor gestures for him to walk inside.

"I gotta go," he says unnecessarily to Jess.

She suddenly grabs his hand and gives it a quick squeeze. Nick looks at her in shock. He thought this was over, that he'd never get a chance to touch her like this again. But surely this is just a friendly gesture, a source of comfort from one friend to another. Right?

The doctor clears her throat, and Jess quickly drops his hand. He lets his gaze linger on her for another moment more before turning away from her and walking into the room.

* * *

Everything that happens next passes by in this weird blur. The doctor reads something off her clipboard, and Nick listens to it, but his head kinda blanks out after she says there's no sign of serious injury. He can viscerally feel the tension drain out of his shoulders, and he lets out a long exhale of a breath he can't remember holding.

A nurse comes in with a wheelchair to escort Abbi down the hall for an X-ray while the doctor calls in another nurse to help him pop Caroline's shoulder back into place. Caroline insists that she'll be fine, and then waves Nick off to go with Abbi.

"Well?" Jess asks nervously once Nick returns to the hallway. She walks alongside him as they try to keep up with the brisk pace of the nurse.

"Everyone's going to be fine," he says, and there's another wave of relief that floods through his body at the words. It's almost like he still can't believe it.

"Oh, that's great!" Jess cheers. She yanks on his arm to bring them to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Then she pulls him into a hug, her arms tight around his neck as she keeps his head pressed into her shoulder.

Nick's arms reflexively wrap around her waist as he relaxes into her. She feels impossibly good against him. The sweet smell of her shampoo washes over him as Nick lets his eyes fall shut. He can't help but drag out the moment just a little longer, even though he knows they need to keep up with the nurse, and doesn't have the time to deal with his conflicting feelings about this moment. Nick sighs as he lets her go, reluctantly taking a step away from her as he drops his hands back down to his sides.

"C'mon," Jess says, and she grabs on to his wrist as they hurry to catch back up to the nurse.

Nick tries not to get too caught up in the casual gesture, and instead follows after her until they arrive at the small waiting room where they can see Abbi on the other side of the window. The X-ray technician looks up at them and gives Nick a nod as she continues with her work, talking to Abbi as she sets her arm up on the platform. Abbi looks so small in the vest that the technician straps onto her chest, her eyes wide as she listens to whatever the woman in the purple scrubs says. Nick manages to catch Abbi's attention and gives her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up. Abbi smiles back, looking a little less nervous, even as the technician lowers an intimidating piece of equipment towards her arm.

"What did they think was wrong?" Jess asks softly as they watch the technician gently remove the splint on Abbi's arm.

"Doctor said it looked like a simple fracture, but he couldn't be sure until after he saw the X-ray." Nick looks through the window and shoves his hands back into his pockets. Jess lets go of his wrist; Nick hadn't even realized that she had still been holding on to him. Part of him wants to grab on to her hand again, but he knows not to push his luck. "Yeah, and Caroline popped her shoulder out of its socket. Plus, she's got some pretty rough bruising on her ribs, but the doctor said she should be completely fine in a few weeks."

"That's good," Jess says and turns to look at him. "I mean, not that they got hurt. But good that it's nothing really serious. Obviously I'd prefer if no one was hurt at all, but..."

Nick laughs. It's a welcome reprieve from the ridiculously stressful past few hours. He turns to smile at Jess. "Yeah. I gotcha."

There's one of those moments, the little pause where they both just take each other in. Short moments where it feels like they're on the precipice of something, where his heart stutters and his mind freezes up and all he can think about is Jess. But this isn't like those moments, because he knows that nothing is going to come from it. There's nothing between him and Jess, at least not anymore. That chapter of his life is over.

Caroline arrives a second later, breaking the tension that was between him and Jess. Her arm is resting in a large black sling to keep her shoulder still. "Is Abbi in there?" she asks before noticing Jess, and Nick cringes in anticipation of whatever argument or fight is about to unfold. "Oh, Jess. When did you get here?"

"I was just leaving," Jess says quickly. She fishes the keys out of her purse and passes them over to Nick.

"Jess, you don't have to go," Nick says as he takes the keys.

"You can stay if you'd like," Caroline agrees, to his surprise.

"No, I'm on my way out, really!" Jess insists, her voice overly friendly. "Just wanted to make sure everyone was alright and drop off Nick's car.

He frowns at her. "Wait, then how are you getting home?"

"I'll take an Uber. It's no big deal, really." Jess slings the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "Um, bye, Nick. Hope you feel better, Caroline."

Nick watches her go, and there's a little part in his heart that sinks in disappointment. He'd been happy to see her here. Jess never fails to calm him down, and just being around her helps him see things more clearly and breathe a little easier. Sure, things are still complicated between them, but they're still close friends, and friends support each other. And for a moment it almost felt like things were back to normal with them.

"Everything alright?" Caroline asks, and Nick nods absentmindedly.

"Yeah, it's fine."

Caroline doesn't look too convinced, but she doesn't push him on it. She sits down on one of the rickety plastic chairs in the hallway, and Nick joins her, staring across the hall as the technician pulls down a curtain to block the window.

"Funny how we always end up like this." Caroline fusses with the strap of her sling.

"We gotta stop meeting in the hospital," Nick chuckles. "Our insurance deductible is already too damn high."

She laughs, a genuine almost-snort that catches Nick by surprise. He can't remember the last time he heard Caroline laugh, except for that phony giggle she does when she's talking to people she wants to impress. It's nice. _Real._ Caroline does so much to make everything think she's got everything under perfect control at all times, but Nick always thought that it made her seem artificial. He likes this version of her: the authentic one she always tries to gloss over or hide away.

"They must have you on some pretty strong painkillers, huh?"

"Shut up," Caroline says with another laugh. She shoves him with her uninjured arm.

"Hey, I'm not the one high in a hospital," he teases, gently nudging her back. " _This_ time."

Caroline laughs again, but this time she winces and clutches at her stomach. "Stop making me laugh. You're hurting my ribs.

Nick smiles at her, and then shrugs before settling back into his seat. They sit in silence for a few seconds. It's a companionable quiet, not the frosty, tense arguments he's used to having with her. They're in a good place, sometimes. Not all the time, but they have their friendly moments. It makes him tentatively optimistic about the future, that maybe ten years down the line they'll have this whole co-parenting thing figured out.

"Look," Caroline says softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, especially in front of Abbi. I was being unreasonable and mean and kind of an asshole."

"Wow." Nick stares at her in shock. "They must have you on the really strong stuff, huh?"

Caroline glares at him. "Would you just shut up and take the apology?"

He raises his hands in surrender.

"It's just..." She hesitates for a moment before turning her gaze back down to her shoes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't in a good place then, last August, right when you left. And I just... I don't know what happened...if it was like, ten years of bottled-up feelings finally boiling over or... I don't know. I'm sorry."

Caroline lets out a defeated sigh as she drags the heel of her shoe across the linoleum floor. "And I was sitting there in the car after the accident happened, and Abbi was crying in the backseat, and I was thinking, _Abbi. Is Abbi okay?_ And then I realized that, well, with the way things were between us on Friday-"

There's a sharp spike of hurt in his chest. "Caroline."

"I didn't—" Caroline sniffles and wipes at her nose. "I didn't want you to think she hated you. Or that I did. And if that had been my last moment, and if that had been the last time I saw you..."

"Don't talk like that," Nick says sternly. It hurts too much to even think about the possibility. That's not what happened. They're fine.

"I just..." Caroline looks at him, her eyes watering and her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I was awful to you and Abbi and... I'm sorry."

Nick looks at her seriously. This isn't the pills or mild concussion talking. Caroline doesn't make this kind of thing up. She's never been good at expressing her feelings, so on the rare occasion that she does, it means a lot coming from her. "I forgive you."

Caroline smiles at him, her eyes tired. This whole ordeal is tough on both of them, even if it feels one-sided at times. It's best for everyone when they're getting along. "And at the wedding, I was upset that you weren't home, and I was upset at myself for making you leave, and Abbi was upset, and it was all just a mess. So I was miserable, and I went to the wedding because I thought I might see you again, but then you were there with _Jess_."

"I know." Nick frowns down at his hands. "I... I didn't want to go alone. And Jess... she made things feel less complicated. But I swear, nothing had happened between us yet."

She sighs. "I know. I believe you."

"Caroline, I didn't... I never wanted to hurt you or lie to you." He turns back towards her, trying to convey the sincerity of his words. "But I... I didn't know how to tell you, and it seemed easier to just... not bring it up."

"I guess you were right not to tell me." Caroline frowns remorsefully. "I can't say that I took it too well."

Nick wrings his hands together. "I couldn't think of the _right_ way to do it. They all seemed terrible."

Caroline nods in understanding. "I was just a mess back then. I felt scared and vulnerable and miserable. There was this little voice in my head that said you two were together, that she was the reason you drifted away. It was easier to put the blame on her than me, I guess." She picks at the Velcro strap of her sling. "And seeing you together on Friday, it brought me back to all those shitty fears and feelings that I'd tried so hard to forget. So I overreacted. And I'm sorry."

Her honesty surprises him. This is the first time he's heard any of this from her, and the fact that she's willing to be so vulnerable with him catches him off guard. It's a real apology, not just some excuse for her behavior. She's actually sorry about what happened, and she's willing to learn from the mistake. He appreciates it.

"I forgive you," Nick says again with a half-smile. He needs to say that for her, but also for himself. He can't be holding on to those old resentments, neither of them can. They both have to move forward past them.

She smiles back and then only looks a little uneasy when she says, "You two seem really happy together."

Nick's face falls. "Well..."

"Well?"

"We, uh..." He rubs the back of his neck. "We broke up."

"You did?" Caroline actually sounds disappointed.

"Yeah." Nick wrings his hands together and fights back the sick feeling that rises up in the back of his throat. "It's just... we're different people, and we want different things. We tried, but it just didn't work with us."

Caroline frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

She opens her mouth to say something else, but her train of thought is interrupted when the X-ray technician opens the door and ushers Abbi out into the hallway.

* * *

The doctor shows them the tiny fracture on the X-ray before setting the bone, and Abbi is incredibly brave the whole time. She gets a brand-new pink cast and insists on getting both Nick and Caroline to sign it as soon as it dries. They have to wait a little while longer for the cast to set, so they all sit in the small observation room, chatting away while Nick does his best to finish up all the discharge paperwork.

There's a knock on the door, and then a woman with curly brown hair peers around the corner and into the room. "Can I come in?" she asks with a bright smile.

"Hey. Yeah, yeah, of course." Caroline seems to recognize her and waves her inside, and the woman drops into the seat beside her.

"I'm sorry, they wouldn't let me in until visiting hours started," she explains in a rush as she sets her hand on Caroline's arm in a gesture that seems to be a little more than friendly. "Are you okay? Is Abbi okay? What happened to your arm?"

Caroline grabs on to her hand and smiles reassuringly at her. "I'm fine, just a little banged up. Dislocated my shoulder, but it'll be fine in a few months. And Abbi broke her arm, but the doctor said it was just a slight fracture."

"I got a cast," Abbi chimes in. She holds up her arm to display the neon-pink addition.

"Woah, that's really cool!" the woman says excitedly, smiling wide. "Are you going to have your friends at school sign it?"

Abbi grins and bobs her head up and down excitedly.

"Oh," Caroline looks over to where Nick is sitting on the other side of the room. "Nick, you've met Susan, right?"

"I think we spoke on the phone once," Nick says. He offers his hand up to Susan, and she takes it confidently. "It's nice to put a face to the name."

"Nice to meet you, too." Susan smiles at him before giving Abbi a mischievous glance out of the corner of her eye. "Abbi's told me _all_ about you."

He preens at that and looks back at Abbi with a knowing grin. "Is that so?"

Abbi giggles, and then shrugs before launching into a dramatic recap of her evening at the hospital, complete with sound effects. Susan is a captive audience, reacting dramatically to Abbi's retelling, and Nick smiles and shakes his head in amusement before turning back to finish up their hospital paperwork.

When he goes to pull his insurance card out of his wallet, he notices that Susan and Caroline are holding hands, and he raises an eyebrow in surprise. Caroline blushes a little, but she doesn't let go of the other woman's hand, and instead asks Abbi another question about school.

* * *

They finally get all their discharge information from the nurse and prescriptions from the hospital pharmacy and file their paperwork with the billing department. Abbi fiddles with her cast as they linger in the parking lot and try to find Nick's car in the mostly empty lot. Susan has to leave to pick her daughter up from her mother's house, and she gives Caroline a kiss on the cheek before leaving. Nick does his best not to stare, but he can't help but notice. It's not an exact confirmation of his suspicions, but given the way Caroline watches her go, it's pretty damn close.

Abbi falls asleep in the backseat a few minutes into the drive, once the hectic day finally gets the best of her. Nick smiles at the sight of her in his rearview mirror as he drives them home to Caroline's townhouse with Caroline awkwardly quiet in the front seat.

"So," he says casually. "Susan, huh?"

Caroline blushes bright red. "Um, yeah. We're together. Dating. Yeah."

Nick hums, trying to hold back on teasing her. "How long have you two been together?"

"About a month." Caroline nervously tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. "But it sorta started back in February. That's when I first realized that I um, you know." She bites down on her lower lip and looks out the side window. "Guess that makes me a bit of a hypocrite."

Nick shrugs and flips on the turn signal. "I don't mind. I'm just happy you found someone who makes you happy." He pulls up to the stoplight and looks over to give her a teasing grin. "So I guess that's why things didn't work out between us, huh?"

"What? No!" Caroline sputters, turning even redder. "It's not— That's not—"

"Relax." Nick laughs. "I was just kidding."

Caroline sighs and rolls her eyes. "It's just... She took me by surprise. I was working at her coffee shop, and then before I knew it I was falling for her." She blushes again and traces her fingertip in a circle over the window. "I felt young again. Like I was in high school or something, hoping that the pretty girl would notice me. And it's not what I would've expected or guessed would have happened in a million years. But it took me by surprise, and I just couldn't help it. I mean, she'd say something to me or accidentally brush her arm up against mine, and that's all I could think about for the rest of the day."

Nick stares wistfully out the windshield. He knows exactly what that's like, and it's almost a little too close to home. "Yeah, I know the feeling," he admits. "I guess you can't choose who you fall in love with."

"I guess not." She nods in agreement. "It's never really who you expect it to be."

The rest of the ride is quiet as Caroline stares out the window contemplatively while Nick drives them home. It's not too long before Nick pulls up to the house and puts the car in park. Caroline gingerly gets out of the car, and Nick carefully lifts Abbi out of the backseat, mindful of her cast, as he carries her into the house and up to her room. He tucks her into bed and crouches beside her head to watch her sleep for a little while, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of her breathing. Nick brushes her hair back behind her ear, and then leans in to gently press a kiss to her forehead before quietly sneaking out of her room.

"She's all tucked in," he whispers to Caroline as he creeps down the stairs. "Did you need help with anything? Dirty dishes or laundry or..."

"No, I've got it," Caroline says, but she still seems distracted by whatever is going on inside her head. "You really love her, don't you?"

"Abbi?" Nick's brow furrows. "Of course I do."

"No," she shakes her head and looks at him thoughtfully. "Jess."

Nick hesitates, wondering if this is some kind of test, but then he thinks back to everything Caroline's told him today and the honesty in her voice when she told him those true words. She was brave enough to do the hard thing, so he has to be too. He shrugs sheepishly and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I mean, yeah. But it's over, so you don't have to worry about it or-"

She sighs. "It doesn't have to be. If that's how you feel, then you shouldn't give up on her."

"Caroline..."

"Nick..."

He huffs. "It's too late now. She wouldn't—"

"It's never too late," she counters, her eyes serious. "I mean, you've been in love with her since the moment you met. So don't be afraid, and tell her how you feel. Make sure she really hears you this time."

Nick's mind freezes up for a moment as he stares at her in shock. Of all the things he expected Caroline to say, this wasn't even on his radar. Things between them really have changed; they've come a long way. He takes a step towards her and gingerly pulls her into a brief hug, careful not to bump into her sling.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Caroline smiles as she steps away from him and waves him towards the door. "Now go!"

Nick grins at her before grabbing his keys and practically running out the door and to his car.

He breezes through traffic, somehow managing to hit every green light on his way back to the loft. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins as he thinks about what's he's going to say to her, rehearsing his speech as he stares out at the open road.

"I don't want to call it. Because you're amazing and beautiful and incredible and I'd be an idiot if I let you go. And I know it's complicated, and weird, and I really don't know what the future looks like anymore and that honestly terrifies me. But if I have you by my side, then the rest of that doesn't matter. All I know is that I wanna be with ya, Jess."

After an eternity, he finally pulls up to the curb and runs into the building. The elevator can't seem to come fast enough, and he impatiently hits the button over and over again, even though he knows that won't make it come any faster. He grits his teeth in frustration and tries to calm the frantic racing of his heart.

Once he _finally_ gets to the loft he goes straight to Jess' room, only to find it empty. His heart sinks a little as reality starts to sink in. That little voice in the back of his mind goes into overdrive. _What if Jess doesn't want this? What if she rejects him again? What if she's moved on?_ Nick can see her in his mind's eye, all dressed up for a night at the bar with Cece and Schmidt as they try to set her up with some cute guy.

Nick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before defeatedly returning to his own room. He really thought this was going to be the moment, but the timing is all wrong. Again. In the war of head versus heart, maybe heart can never win. Not for him. He needs to give up on fantasy and climb back into the real world. He needs to give up on this idea of some other fantasy world that he's been trying to live in lately.

He opens his bedroom door and much to his surprise, there's Jess sitting on his bed. She jumps up when he walks in, like she was waiting for him all this time

"Jess...?"

"Nick. I..." She nervously wrings her hands together. "I need to tell you something."

He just stands there in shocked silence, and Jess takes it as an invitation to continue.

"Look, I know you think we should call it. I know it's tricky, and complicated, and we don't know what we're doing." Jess takes a deep breath and drops her hands down to her sides. "But I don't want to give up on this, even if we don't know what this is."

Nick's mind is blank, like he can't quite understand what she's saying. It's like he'd in a foreign film with subtitles, but he knows all the words. They're _his_ words and he can't even be mad about it because they should a hell of a lot better coming out of her mouth.

Jess bites down on her lower lip, her eyes watering as she continues. "I was scared. I'm still scared. I'm terrified," she admits with a little laugh and wipes at her eye. "But I'm not afraid of the future, or what anyone else says about us. What I'm really afraid of is losing you. Because... I love you. And I can't imagine a world where we aren't together. So I want to uncall it. Please, can we uncall it? Before you say no... Don't say no."

It takes a moment for her words to sink in. His mind is still reeling from everything she's said and the fact that she loves him. _Loves_ him. Nick stares at her, and he can't hear anything but the thundering of his own heart. All those practiced speeches fly out of his head. Turns out he didn't need them after all. He just wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her.

Jess lets out a soft gasp of surprise. Then she grabs at his shoulder and kisses him back, her lips sweet and slick against his. He missed this so goddamn much, and his grip on her tightens as he pulls her close to him. He thinks he's been alone for a long time. He's been lonely. He didn't think he was, but then he met her, and he didn't know how he went through so much of his life without her. She feels like coming home, like sunshine after a rainy day, like longing and elation and desire all wrapped up in the perfect package as she drapes her arm over his back and kisses him over and over, like she never wants to stop. He slides his hand up her back and into her hair, holding her tight as he kisses her with every ounce of passion he can muster, trying to convey the feeling that he can't find the right words to tell her about.

Nick tilts his head to kiss her from a different angle, and Jess breaks away from his lips to smile at him. There's still a few unshed tears lingering in her eyes, and Nick lifts his hand up to cradle her jaw and brush them away with his thumb. He leans his forehead against hers as she beams at him, giggling a little as she leans in to briefly press her lips to his. Nick grins back and captures her mouth in another kiss, and he can feel her smile against his mouth.

"I love you," Nick says, his chest tight and so full it just might burst. He's smiling like an idiot, so damn happy that he just can't help it, and he kisses her again, her lips open and pliant against his.

Jess smiles at him when she pulls away. "I love you," she says back to him again, laughing as she leans in to kiss him again.

Nick lets his eyes fall shut as he kisses her, and he feels so extraordinarily happy. Ridiculously, absurdly happy. Happier than he's ever felt in his life. This is what he wants, what he's wanted for so long. Jess is amazing and incredible, and she wants him, wants to be with him. She _loves_ him. It's the dream he desperately wanted to turn into a reality, the fantasy he convinced himself he'd never be able to have. But it's happening, he still can't quite grasp that it's _real_ , even though it really, truly is.

He holds Jess in his arms, keeping her pressed tight to him as he kisses her. Even when he breaks away he still lets his touch linger on her as he slowly opens his eyes. His hand rests on her face, stroking over her cheekbone as Jess smiles at him, like she can't really believe it either.

 _This is it_ , he thinks to himself as he looks at her. _This is the rest of my life._

It's terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, but he's not afraid because he can see the same thing reflected back in her own eyes. Nick smiles before kissing her again.


	38. Epilogue

The lights of the auditorium are already dimmed, but Nick still manages to spot Caroline among the sea of parents and students packed into the seats.

"Did I miss anything?" Nick asks as he slides into the empty seat beside her.

"Nope," Caroline whispers back and hands him an extra program. "You're just in time."

Nick smiles at her as he takes the pale blue paper emblazoned with the words _The Willow School for Fine Arts Winter Showcase_ in a needlessly complicated looking font.

It's been about two years since their separation, and they've finally settled into a good place with each other. Things between them have calmed down to manageable levels that is leagues better than the turbulent mess that their former marriage had become. They really are better apart than together. It took them years to realize it, but it's true. Other people might see the dissolution of a marriage as a failure, but Nick thinks that's far too simplistic view of what a marriage is. They both own their regrets, but they both own their own happiness too. They came out better people, better parents, because of what they went through together, and that's not something anyone else can take away from them. What they have now is good, strained at times, but they make it work.

"Shh!" Susan shushes them as a spotlight flickers to life and illuminates the left-hand side of the stage. "It's starting."

Jess steps out from behind the curtain, looking only a little nervous in her maroon Vice Principal blazer as she looks out into the crowd. She only just took up the role a few weeks ago, a semi-temporary position while her predecessor is on maternity leave followed by an extended sabbatical. Nick feels a surge of pride in his chest as Jess smiles confidently once her eyes spot him in the crowd.

"Welcome, parents, family, and dear friends to our semiannual fine arts showcase, or should I say _Snow_ -case," she says, gesturing to the garlands of paper snowflakes strung around the auditorium and earning her a few appreciative chuckles from the crowd. Jess has her flashcards in hand, but she doesn't need them, since she's practiced her speech so many times that she's started murmuring it in her sleep.

After a few more winter-themed puns, Jess wraps up and introduces the first act before carefully stepping down from the stage. The curtains open to a group of sixth graders as they file into place on a set of risers, directed by a teacher in a dark gray cardigan. Jess appears by Nick's side a moment later, just as the music teacher begins his brief introduction.

"How was that?" she asks, nervously chewing on her lower lip.

Nick takes her hand in his, threading their fingers together. "You did great."

Jess smiles at him, vibrant even without the spotlight.

Abbi's violin class is the third act, and Nick's pleasantly surprised that it actually sounds like _music_ instead of the screeching he's used to tolerating at these kinds of things. Not every kid can be as musically gifted as his daughter, after all. She's been practicing her pieces nonstop ever since the semester started, excited to be working on more complicated songs now that she's in the _advanced_ class with the kids one grade ahead of her.

She'd been nervous about going on stage in front of everyone, especially since she has a longer solo in the middle of one of the pieces. Nervous enough to leave her violin and music folder behind at the loft when they left for the concert, only realizing her mistake once they arrived at the school, which meant Nick had to run all the way back across town to get it, barely managing to arrive on time.

But Abbi doesn't even seem fazed by the last-minute hiccup. She frowns slightly in concentration as she plays her solo, and even though Nick's heard it a quarter-dozen times by this point, it still manages to catch him by surprise as he marvels at just how damn talented she is.

The song comes to a close, the students' bows held still in the air as the last note dies away. Then the director drops her hands and steps aside and gestures for the audience to applaud. Abbi grins brightly as she and her classmates give a slight bow before leaving the stage.

After the concert ends Abbi finds them in the crowd, blushing slightly as they offer her another round of applause. Nick wraps her up in a hug that she only acts slightly embarrassed by. He tries not to be too hurt by it; she has to keep up appearances now that she's a teenager. That thought makes him feel incredibly old, and he gives Abbi one last pat on the back before letting her go.

"You did great, kiddo," Nick says.

"It was _amazing_ ," Caroline agrees as she squeezes Abbi in a hug of her own.

"Thanks." Abbi brushes back a lock of hair that's escaped her braid and shifts her grip on the handle of her violin case. "I have some art in the hallway, too."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Caroline asks jokingly. "Lead the way."

They ooh-and-ahh over her painting of a few fruits beside a green bottle that's so lifelike it might as well be a photograph. Well, Nick might be exaggerating just a little bit. But it really is good.

"The composition is very well thought out," Susan says in a hushed art-critic voice. "And the way that the paint portrays the bounce of light and shadow on the figures shows a true understanding of the medium."

"I agree," Jess hums thoughtfully. "It really directs the viewer's eye across the canvas, adding a feeling of movement, even though it's a still life."

Nick's brow furrows, not quite sure if they're doing some bit or being completely serious, especially since ninety percent of what they just said sounds completely meaningless to him. He meets Caroline's gaze, but she just shrugs and looks back at the painting. "I like the fruit a lot," she says.

"Yeah it's um..." Nick struggles for a moment. "Very green. I like it."

He cringes at his own phrasing, but Abbi still smiles at the poorly worded compliment. What really matters is that she knows he's proud of her, even if he doesn't know how to express that in some flowery, over-complicated critique.

"Thanks, Dad."

* * *

Later that night, he tucks Abbi into Jess' empty bed, and they pick up right where they left off in the latest Pepperwood adventure, where Pepperwood and Jessica Night have finally tracked down the evil mastermind Schmith. It's equal parts her story and his at this point with the way they bounce off each other, taking turns coming up with the next dramatic plot twist as they try to one-up each other until Abbi's eyes are drooping shut despite her best attempts to stay awake.

"I guess we'll have to finish up tomorrow night," Nick says when Abbi lets out a drawn-out yawn.

"Okay." She curls up underneath the bedspread. "But I get to start."

"Alright," he agrees with a chuckle. Nick smiles and gives her one last kiss on the temple before sneaking out of the room.

Jess is already in her side of the bed, reading. The warm glow of her booklight softens her features and makes him think of one of those Renaissance paintings she likes so much. He slides under the covers beside her and leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek as he settles into bed.

"Hey there, Pepperwood," Jess teases as she shuts off her light and sets the book on the bedside table. She lies beside him, their knees knocking together beneath the comforter as they face each other.

"Hey, Jessica Night," he jokes back, and then she pulls him in for a kiss, slow and easy.

Her mouth is pliant against his, and she tastes like toothpaste and the crisp bite of her mouthwash. Nick sighs into the kiss and gently rests his hand on her waist, the fabric of her pajamas soft against his fingers. It's sweet and domestic in a way that makes his heart swell in his chest, and Nick knows without a doubt that this is how he wants to spend every night for the rest of his life, curled up beside the love of his life.

Which reminds him...

Nick breaks off the kiss to look at Jess, suddenly hesitant to hear the words outside of his own head. He lets his gaze linger on her for a moment, marveling at how beautiful she is, even in the darkness of his bedroom. It's not just a physical beauty, but a beauty that comes out through her eyes when you look at her. It's a beauty that makes you believe in the world because of how much you know she believes in it. Jess' eyes slowly drift back open, and then she leans in to kiss him again, a brief brush of her lips against his. It gives him just enough confidence to finally say what's he's been trying to build up the courage to ask her for weeks.

"Move in with me," he finally says, his inelegant stammer breaking the gentle silence that's settled over the room as the words tumble clumsily past his lips. All those practice runs disappear from his memory as he stumbles his way through the rest of his speech. "Into my bedroom. Or, yours actually. Since it's bigger. And then this can be an office, or craft room, but um, Abbi would sleep here and you know, keep some of her stuff here too. That way I can have more evenly split custody because she could stay during the week and carpool with you to school."

There's a long silence between them, during which every possible fear runs wild in Nick's head. He knew this was too soon. The reason they called it was because Jess didn't want to settle down with him, or anyone. And sure, that was a year ago, and they uncalled it pretty quickly right after, but _still._ This is a big deal, one of those big steps that comes with all these strings attached, and Nick should've known better than to just throw out some crazy curveball like this. He might as well pack up and go sleep on the couch now and hope that they can laugh this whole proposal off in the morning over chocolate chip pancakes.

"Or not," he backtracks quickly. "It's a pretty ridiculous idea, I mean since we already live in the same apartment. We basically sleep in each other's rooms every night. It's not that big of a difference anyway." Nick forces a half-laugh that falls painfully flat. "You know what? Let's just pretend this whole conversation never even happened."

"Nick," Jess finally says, bringing an end to his rambling. "Let's move in together."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nick grins at her, all his worries vanishing when he sees the same excitement and affection he's feeling mirrored in Jess' face. She smiles into his kiss, and the next one, and the one after that. He can't find it in himself to be annoyed, not when he feels the exact same way, sheer joy buzzing in each and every one of cells, growing even stronger when Jess pulls him even closer towards her until he's lying on top of her as they kiss over and over until his cheeks are sore from smiling.

"I love you," he says when they finally break apart, even as their bodies stay pressed together.

Jess' hands are warm against his skin where they've slipped up underneath his shirt. She beams up at him, her blue eyes warm with affection and her lips red from his kisses. "I love you, too."

Nick's never been happier.

* * *

 _A few years later..._

* * *

Jess is absolutely _radiant_ as she walks down the aisle, and the sight of her makes Nick's heart leap up into his throat, his suit suddenly too tight and palms sweaty with nerves.

She's beautiful because she's _Jess_ , and she always looks beautiful. Even when she wakes up hungover after a particularly sloppy game of True American, or after she got caught in a surprise thunderstorm mid-hike and came home with mud and mascara smeared all down her face, or when she's bright red and furious as she rants about how some parent on the PTA doesn't approve of one of her brilliant ideas, despite the fact that every teacher loved the project proposal, and the students are actually excited about it.

Nick smiles at her, and Jess gives him a wink as she steps into her place at the altar beside Nadia. The music shifts and the crowd stands to watch Cece walk down the aisle, looking stunning in the dress Jess managed to miraculously turn from a hot mess into a beautiful white and gold masterpiece that resembles one of those hundred thousand dollar gowns on that cheesy dress choosing show Jess and Cece like to watch on "girl nights" as they make their way through two bottles of pink wine. Nick glances over to Schmidt, who stares at his soon-to-be wife with a look awe that makes him smile.

He watches Jess all through the ceremony, even though he knows his attention is supposed to be on the couple who's actually getting married. But he just can't tear his gaze away from his girlfriend, the way she beams during the vows, her eyes only slightly watery as the rabbi pronounces Schmidt and Cece man and wife. It makes his chest feel tight, and he can't help but think of how she'll look at _their_ wedding when she's the one in white, even though he has to admit that the red lace bridesmaid dress looks incredible on her. Jess catches his eye again and smiles, and Nick wonders if she's thinking of him the same way, and there's a sparkle in her blue eyes that makes him think it just might be true.

* * *

Afterwards at the reception, he spins Jess around in a slow circle to some Phil Collins' song, her head resting against the lapel of his suit and her fingers tangled up with his as they sway along in an easy rhythm. It feels like that time ages ago, back when he was still working for Meriwether, back when he thought that he'd never be able to have Jess in his life as anything more than a friend, back when he was falling hopelessly in love with her. And even though so much has changed since then, he's still hopelessly in love with Jess, except now he doesn't have to hold himself back from her anymore.

"Do you you remember that gala we went to?" he whispers in her ear.

Jess lifts her head off his chest to look at him, her eyes shimmering underneath the strings of lights flickering above them. "Yeah."

Nick ducks down to kiss her, just because he can now, and he revels in the way Jess' breath hitches in response. After a moment he reluctantly breaks off the kiss to admit, "That's what I wanted that night."

"Me too."

He grins down at her before spinning them in a quick circle that makes her laugh and hold him a little closer until they slow to a stop. There's a little voice in the back of his head that this is the moment he's been waiting for, but then he remembers that they're at a _wedding_ , and he tucks the thought back into his pocket. They sway along to the song a little while longer, and when the music finally stops Nick turns his head to press a kiss to her temple before reluctantly letting her go. Jess smiles brightly and keeps her grip tight on his hand as she leads him off the dance floor and back to their table.

Not even fifteen minutes later, Jess is summoned away to deal with important Maid of Honor business, leaving Nick alone to guard her purse as he sips on his beer. Nick watches her go, and his mind drifts back to his earlier daydream. The vineyard is nice and all, but it's far more suited to Cece and Schmidt than their own tastes. It might be crazy, but there's a part of him that wants to get married at the loft. It's where he and Jess fell in love, after all. Maybe up on the rooftop, where they had their first kiss. He can almost see it in his head: the rows of white chairs meticulously set out to face a fancy floral archway and them saying their vows to each other against the scenic city skyline.

"Hey, man," Schmidt says, interrupting Nick's thoughts as he drops down into the empty seat beside him.

"Hey." Nick grins at him. "How's it feel to be a married man?" he asks, fully expecting some ridiculous aphorism or cocky joke.

But to Nick's surprise, Schmidt just beams as he answers, "Really, really good."

It's been nice to see the way Schmidt's grown into himself over these past few years, how he's given up on the defensive posturing, and instead lets himself be open with others. Schmidt's still his needlessly dramatic self, but he's given up the worst of his douchebag attitudes, much to the appreciation of those in his friend group.

"Congrats, man," Nick offers sincerely and holds his bottle up to clink against Schmidt's glass of champagne. "I'm really happy for you two."

"Cheers." Schmidt takes a sip of his drink, and there's a mischievous gleam in his eye that makes Nick worried. "And I guess it won't be long until it's you and Jess up at the altar."

Nick chokes on his beer. "What?"

"I found the ring in your pocket," Schmidt explains with a knowing smirk. "When I accidentally grabbed your jacket after the wedding photos."

 _Shit._ Nick should've known not to bring it with him here, not with Schmidt's tendency to snoop around in other people's business. He wasn't even planning to propose tonight, not on the same day of their best friends' wedding, but he's been carrying the damn thing around in his pocket for the past five months. It's practically habit at this point. And he can't risk Jess finding out the surprise by stumbling upon it in his bedside drawer one morning.

"Yeah," he admits with a sheepish shrug. "I'm proposing."

"Alright!" Schmidt cheers and leans forward to clap his hand on Nick's shoulder. "Proud of you, man."

"What's going on?" Winston asks as he appears on Nick's other side.

"Nick's proposing," Schmidt explains before Nick has a chance to answer.

"Hey, congrats! That'll make all three of us married men, huh?" Winston grins and raises his left hand, ignoring Schmidt's slightly annoyed eye roll.

Winston eloped with Aly just a few months ago in a frenzied whirlwind engagement that started at Cece and Schmidt's engagement party. The two had been together ever since that fateful game of True American nearly three years ago, a dynamic duo both off and on the streets as some of the LAPD's best officers. It hadn't surprised anyone that the eccentric couple would dash off to get married on a whim.

The whole thing started when Winston accidentally told Aly she would "make a beautiful bride" and promptly regretted his choice of words when she made a sudden dash for the door. After several hours of panic, he finally went to apologize and discovered that it was simply an ill-timed case of food poisoning. The two ended up running off to Vegas a few days later, once Aly's stomach had finally settled. They've been bragging about married life ever since, much to the discontent of Cece and Schmidt, who were engaged _first_ , after all.

"Why are we celebrating?" Aly asks as she joins them at the table. "Other than the obvious."

"Nick and Jess are getting married."

"Really?!"

"Hey," Nick cuts in quickly, trying to regain some semblance of control over the quickly spiralling situation. "She hasn't said yes yet."

"As if she'd say anything else," Schmidt scoffs.

Nick shrugs and sticks his hands back into his pockets, his thumb rubbing over the corner of the small velvet box. "Yeah, I know."

He should've asked months ago. There have been a lot of perfect moments he could have asked her since then. Like that time early one Tuesday morning when they had been sitting across from each other at the dining room table. Nick had looked up from his eggs and realized that there was nothing more he wanted than to marry her. The feeling had been so strong then, but he had to make up an excuse to leave so he wouldn't blurt out the question. He thought it had been too small for her, not a good enough engagement story for her to tell other people.

There had also been that time when they visited Jess' parents right before Christmas, and Bob stopped him in the kitchen at 2 a.m. to say Nick had earned his blessing and gave him Jess' great-grandmother's ring. He definitely should have done it then. Bob had even put together a whole romantic tour of Portland for them, but Nick had chickened out. Instead he's dragged it out, worrying himself sick over when a more 'perfect' time to propose would come up.

And, if he's being completely honest with himself, he's more than a little afraid. After everything with him and Caroline he's hesitant to take this next step with someone else, afraid that he'll ruin it just like that last one. He _knows_ that this time is different, that he's older and wiser, and this isn't some kind of rushed decision to save a relationship built on a shaky foundation in the wake of an unexpected pregnancy like it was the first time.

He and Jess have been together for over two years now, and their relationship has grown and matured just as they have. Jess is the principal of her own school. Nick took over for Tran when he retired from the firm at the end of the last fiscal year. His daughter is starting her first year of high school this August, and she's settled into the stability of having two families. Time is flying by, and he's had Jess by his side for all of it. This isn't some puppy love between them. It's old-ass dog love.

Jess walks up to their group a moment later, and Nick shakes all the thoughts of the proposal out of his head, so he won't accidentally blurt out something stupid.

"Hey guys!" she says brightly as she looks around the group. "Why's everyone smiling so much?"

"We're just so happy to see you," Schmidt says, his eyes tearing up as he ignores the death glare Nick gives him.

"So, so happy," Winston agrees as he squeezes his wife's hand, and Nick wants to slap the knowing smile off his face. Leave it to their ridiculous friends to blow this for him.

"Huh." Jess laughs nervously. "Well, if you guys are done being weird, they're getting ready to do the cake cutting."

"If you'll excuse me, I've got to go find my _wife_ ," Schmidt says as he hops up from his seat, and there's an extra excitement to the way he says it that overpowers his earlier annoyance and brings a smile back to Nick's face.

"You ready, best man?" Jess says teasingly as she hooks her arm with his.

"You got it, J-Day." Nick leans in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek as Jess laughs.

"Copy that, Nick-Knack."

* * *

Jess stares out the window on the car ride home, seemingly lost in thought as she watches the passing streetlights, absentmindedly tapping her fingers against the passenger's side window. She hums along to the song on the radio until it fades out and switches to some local ad. They haven't said much since their final goodbyes as they left the wedding, but Nick doesn't mind. After the hectic energy of today he's grateful for a little quiet.

"Does it feel like everyone's getting married lately?" she asks casually, breaking the silence.

"I guess," Nick agrees hesitantly. They're at that age where it feels like everyone he knows is celebrating something: an engagement or wedding or new baby.

"Cece and Schmidt, Winston and Aly last April, Caroline and Susan at the end of the month, My dad and his girlfriend got engaged early this year. I can barely get into our fridge these days." Jess laughs at her own joke. "I mean, who's next?"

"How about us?"

Jess looks over at him in surprise. "What?"

"Let's get married," Nick says. His heart is pounding in his chest as he grips the steering wheel like a lifeline and brings the car to a sudden stop on the side of the road.

"You're joking, right?" Jess asks with another laugh.

Nick switches on the hazard lights, and then unclicks his seatbelt so he can pull the ring box out of his pocket, and Jess' eyes go wide when he opens it to reveal the silver engagement ring.

"Oh my God, you're not kidding," she breathes out, hands flying up to her mouth in shock.

He hesitates for a second, wondering if he should get out of the car, that way he could get down on one knee and do this the _right_ way. But then again, this is already pretty much the exact opposite of the _right_ way to do this kind of thing. Nick swallows down the lump of fear in his throat and pulls the ring out of the box.

"Jessica Day," he says, trying to ignore the way his hands are trembling. "Will you marry me?"

"Nick," Jess starts, looking at him with watery eyes that glimmer with affection. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have babies and eat good food and laugh and take care of each other, and I want it to start tonight. It's you and me. It's always been you and me."

His heart is still pounding, his cheeks aching from smiling at her. What she's saying, that's all he wants. There's nothing that he wants more than to have a weird, wonderful life with her. He wants to get married and take care of her. He wants to have her by his side for whatever curveball life tries to throw their way. It's all he's wanted for the longest time, what he'd been so convinced she'd never want from him. But here they are: in the poorly lit street in front of a run-down Del Taco, and it's not the perfect proposal story you'd hear in some movie, but it's _theirs_ and that's what makes it perfect.

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes!" Jess exclaims. "Oh my God, yes! Nick!"

He slides the ring onto her finger, and there's no denying that it looks perfect there. Nick looks up at her face, her smile luminescent and blue eyes sparkling with the happiness that he can feel all the way to his core. Jess laughs, and then her hands are on the lapel of his suit, tugging him towards her so she can kiss the grin right off his face. His back complains at the way he has to stretch over the cupholder to reach her, but Nick doesn't care, he just wraps his arms around Jess' waist and tries to get as close to her as he can as they kiss.

They're getting _married_.

* * *

 _A few years later..._

* * *

"Okay," Nick says for what feels like the hundredth time that afternoon. He racks his brain, trying to remember everything on the list that he'd forgotten on the kitchen table before they left. "You've got your student ID, your post office key, your dorm room key. What about your class schedule?"

"Dad." Abbi only sounds slightly exasperated. "I get that online."

"Right." Nick shakes his head. Damn computers. The kids do everything on them nowadays. "Right. I knew that."

Abbi rolls her eyes fondly. "Sure, Dad."

He looks around Abbi's new dorm room, all of her posters carefully pinned to the wall, her textbooks in a careful stack beside her desk lamp, her clothes all packed away in the closet and her bed freshly made. It's still slowly sinking in, now that she's completely unpacked and he's realizing that she's not riding back to LA with him, that she's going to be staying here for the next year.

"You sure you've got everything?" he asks one final time.

"Yes," she insists.

"Alright," Nick concedes before finally walking out of the room with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

His daughter follows close behind him into the hallway, locking the door to her room behind her. Nick's eyes linger on the little paper sun with her name carefully written on it that's taped to her door alongside a " _Welcome to UChicago!"_ pamphlet. They make their way down the winding stairs to where the rest of their family is waiting for them outside: his ma, his brother Jamie, and Jamie's wife and their four kids.

"You all moved in?" Bonnie asks her granddaughter with a proud, sad smile.

"Yep." Abbi smiles back, beaming with excitement as she twirls her brand-new lanyard between her fingers.

They all pile up into the two cars and head off for one final meal together before Nick heads back to LA, and Abbi starts her first week of classes. Jess is waiting for them outside of the restaurant, and she pulls Nick into a tight hug once he's finally within reach.

"How was your flight?" he asks once she finally steps away.

She grins brightly at him, and Nick _really_ missed seeing that in person instead of over the phone. "Good. How was the drive?"

"Long." It had been a fun father-daughter road trip, but there's no denying that more than thirty hours behind the wheel of a U-Haul was more than enough to drive a man crazy. Nick gives her a kiss, sighing at the familiar press of her lips to his. He lingers just a moment too long, because it's been _days_ since they kissed, and he's earned it. They finally break apart and Nick smiles down at her, feeling some of the weight that's been pressing down on his shoulders lift away. "But fun."

"That's good." Jess smiles before turning towards the rest of the group. "But where's my favorite college student?!"

Abbi sheepishly steps forward and is promptly pulled into Jess' embrace.

"I'm so proud of you!" Jess says excitedly.

"Classes haven't even started yet." Abbi laughs.

"I'm still proud," Jess insists as she squeezes a little tighter.

Abbi laughs again, as she hugs her back. "Thanks, Jess."

The meal is loud and a little too rambunctious, but that's just par for the course when it comes to the Miller family. Nick keeps looking over to where Abbi's seated next to his Ma, trying to make peace with the fact that this is really happening. She's going to college. His little baby girl, all grown up and moving out on her own. He still can't believe it. It feels like just yesterday that they brought her home from the hospital, back when she was so tiny that he could hold her with just one hand.

Jess seems to notice the distance in his eyes, because she reaches under the table to grab on to his hand and give his fingers a squeeze. "You alright?"

"What? Yeah." Nick gives his head a slight shake and takes a sip of his water. "Just feel old, is all."

"She's gonna be fine."

"Yeah."

Nick knows it's true. Abbi is a brilliant, beautiful, amazing young woman, and she's going to be great here. There's no doubt in his mind that she's going to knock this whole thing out of the park. And if not, well, she's got his Ma and the rest of his insane extended family to keep an eye on her.

But still, she's his daughter, and she's going to be halfway across the country as she tries to figure out how to live life all on her own. He can't help but be nervous.

Jess gives his fingers a reassuring squeeze, and Nick lets out a long exhale, one he's been unknowingly holding for the past few weeks.

* * *

"You've got everything you need?" Nick asks one final time outside her dorm.

Abbi laughs. " _Yes_ , Dad. I'm fine. I've got everything."

Nick sighs, and then pulls her in for one final hug. He wraps his arms tight around her middle and presses her into his shoulder, wondering just when she got so tall. "Call me if you need me," he whispers into her hair.

"I will," she whispers back, a nervous edge to her voice. "I love you."

 _She's going to be fine_ , he reminds himself as he reluctantly lets her go and takes a step back.

"Tell Mom and Susan I miss them," she says as she walks up the step to her dorm.

"Bye, Abbi!" Jess yells, leaning out the window of their rental car. "Good luck!"

"Bye, Jess!" Abbi yells back, waving as she swipes her ID to unlock the door. "Bye, Dad! Love you!"

"Love you, too," Nick says, a complicated mess of feelings in his chest knotting up as he watches her disappear into the building and then turns back towards the parking lot. He climbs into the passenger's seat, and Jess starts the car, looking at him with her easy, bright grin.

"You ready to go?"

"No," Nick answers honestly. Jess squeezes his hand again and puts the car in reverse.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, passing by empty academic buildings and groups of families helping students move in. Nick watches them disappear in the rearview mirror as they drive further and further away from the campus.

"Ruth was excited about Reggie staying over," Jess says once they're finally on the highway. "Cece says she's been asking for a younger brother or sister for a while now."

"Schmidt's gonna end up getting her that kitten, isn't he?" Nick jokes, feeling a fraction lighter.

Jess laughs. "Like he wasn't going to cave eventually."

Their two-year-old son is spending the next two weeks with his Uncle Schmidt and Aunt Cece while Nick and Jess travel back across the country and do a dozen different cheesy touristy things that Jess has been planning for the past three months. She's painfully bored whenever school's not in session, and she's poured every ounce of her now abundant time to go full travel agent on this vacation.

Nick lifts their joined hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of Jess' knuckles. "Happy anniversary, by the way."

Jess briefly looks away from the road to smile at him. "If I wasn't driving, I'd kiss you right now."

"Just put it on cruise control."

"That's not what that does!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"When was the last time you checked?"

"Nick!"

"Jess!"

She laughs, bright and vibrant. It rings in Nick's ears as Jess leans over to give him a quick peck on the lips before turning back to focus on the road, while Nick leans back in his seat with a satisfied grin.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, you idiot."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Wow. Just, wow.

This fic has been one wild and unexpected journey, and I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that it's finally finished. Writing this brought me closer to some of my now dearest friends, and I never would have imagined that y'all would respond so positively to all of this.

I want to thank my beta-reader dreamsofsleep for being so amazing and kind and helpful, because without her this never would have been half as good as it turned out to be.

I want to thank Hannah and Erin, my two friends in real life who didn't laugh at me for writing this. You're the sweetest, loveliest ladies on this Earth and I'm so happy to have you in my life.

I want to thank Car ( newgirlystuff) and CJ ( jakeyjohnson) for constantly bitching at me for updates and insisting that I make Nick and Jess bone. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not ridiculously happy that our mutual obsession with a tv show brought us three snakes together.

I want to thank Viv ( omgcrazypenguinkid) for being the most incredible and delightful reader a gal could ask for. You're too sweet to me. 3

Alyssa, I love you. Now Perish.

And finally, I want to thank everyone who read this story and supported me on this crazy journey. Your sweet and thoughtful replies made even my worst days brighter. I've read and reread even the smallest notes on each chapter, and your love and support helped me keep my head up and made me feel really and truly appreciated.

Thank you.

Merrill :)


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